


Let Her into Your Heart

by Lynx22281



Series: Unfold Your Love [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cop!Dean, Doctor!Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Family, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Pregnant Castiel, Pregnant Sex, bottom!Castiel, graphic birth, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx22281/pseuds/Lynx22281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years later, married Dean and Castiel are about to take the next step in their life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok...so, this was the original idea for the story that became Unfold Your Love. Part of this part of the story was written quite a while ago and was actually my first attempt at an mpreg fic!

Castiel was just slipping on an oven mitt when the front door opened and a familiar voice called out, “Hey guys!  We’re here!”

 

“In the kitchen,” he said, pulling a pan of foil-wrapped baked potatoes from the oven.

 

After shedding their coats and shoes by the door, Sam and Jess wandered into the kitchen.  Sam carried two six-packs of El Sol and a six-pack of apple juice and Jess carried several presents wrapped in paper covered with old Chevy convertibles.  They both paused in the doorway, inhaling deeply when the smell of grill smoke and warm cinnamon apples wafted their way.   After a moment to savor the smell of dinner, Sam walked over to stick the drinks in the fridge before heading to the back door.

 

“Anything we can help with?” Jess asked as she piled their presents on sideboard where a few other presents were already waiting along with a bouquet of blue and green helium balloons.  A _Happy Birthday_ banner hung across the windows looking out onto the deck where Dean stood wrapped in his coat and holding an umbrella as he one-handedly pulled steaks off the grill.

 

“Nope,” Castiel replied, smiling as he set the potatoes next to the dishware and silverware already stacked next to serving dishes of food and condiments on the island ready for a help-yourself dinner.

 

Sam opened the door to the deck and poked his head out.  “You do realize it’s 40 degrees and raining outside right?”

 

“Yeah.  So?” Dean retorted with a smirk as he wrapped the platter of steaks with foil and turned off the grill.  “Not all of us are blessed with spring birthdays, sunshine.”

 

Sam huffed, but smiled as he held the door open for his brother.

 

The four of them piled their plates high with perfectly cooked and seasoned ribeyes, potatoes loaded with all the toppings, and wedges of iceberg smothered in bacon crumbles and blue cheese dressing before comfortably crowding around the little table in the breakfast nook with the sounds of _Led Zeppelin IV_ coming from the living room stereo.  The laid back gathering was so typically Dean – his favorite people, his favorite food, and his favorite tunes.  His favorite dessert was cooling on the island, teasing their noses with the faint sweet spicy promise of apple pie.

 

After dinner and dessert (complete with trick birthday candles that Dean threatened to shoot if they didn’t stay blown out), Dean ripped into his presents.  Sam and Jess gave him some iTunes gift cards to fill up the iPhone Castiel had given him for Christmas to replace his ancient Nokia, a gift set of his favorite car wash and wax with a super soft chamois for the Impala, and a copy of _Led Zeppelin: Taller than Our Souls_.  Castiel gave him a Tissot chronograph watch with his initials inscribed on the back and a hardcover copy of _Batman: Year One_.

 

“Time for more pie and ice cream,” Dean said, rubbing his hands together with a ravenous smile when he was finished opening and admiring his birthday gifts.

 

“Wait, there’s one more.”  Castiel stood up from the table, clearing away the discarded wrapping paper and ribbons before walking over to the sideboard and removing a shirt-box sized present from one of the cabinets.  The box was wrapped in sky blue paper with a yellow bow on top.  A card was tucked under the bow.

 

“Ooo!  More presents.  I musta been a good boy this year, huh?”

 

“Dude, that’s Christmas,” Sam quipped as Jess snickered.

 

“Maybe I’ve just been extra good since Christmas.”  Dean gave his brother a big shit-eating grin.

 

Sam just rolled his eyes.

 

“Here, open the gift first.”  Castiel handed the box to Dean who tore off the wrapping and popped the tape holding the top on.  Inside was a tiny black t-shirt with a distressed red AC/DC logo.

 

“Uh, Cas.  I think it might be a little small.”  Dean held the tiny shirt against his chest.

 

“Hm, then I guess we’ll have to find someone else to give it to,” Castiel said with a nervous smile as he handed the card to Dean.

 

Dean lifted a clueless brow at his husband as he slid his forefinger under the envelope flap and pulled out the card.  A very cute cartoon dog proclaimed “ _Happy Birthday_!” in a crooked font that resembled a kid’s handwriting in blue crayon.  Dean flipped open the card and blinked several times.

 

Jess and Sam leaned forward expectantly.  Castiel rested one hand on Dean’s shoulder, hoping nobody could hear the butterflies knocking around in his stomach.  Maybe he should have told Dean first, in private.

 

“Well, what’s it say?” Jess prompted.

 

Dean cleared his throat.  His voice was thick as he read the inside of the card.  “Happy Birthday, Daddy.  I can’t wait to see you in September.”

 

He turned the card around for his brother and sister-in-law to see the grainy, black and white sonogram taped to the inside.  The picture showed something vaguely Lima bean shaped in the middle.

 

Jess squealed and jumped up to throw her arms around Castiel’s neck.  "Oh my gosh!  That's what you were doing with the ultrasound machine last week!  How far along are you?"

 

“Eight weeks,” he said, returning the hug as he suddenly realized that in a few months’ time there would be two noticeable bumps between them.  Jess was already three months pregnant with baby number two.  Soon-to-be big brother Liam Robert was spending the evening with Grandpa Bobby and Grandma Ellen while his mom and dad had a much needed night out with other grownups.

 

Jess squinted in thought for a moment.  “Oh, that’s why you two bailed on Black Friday shopping.”

 

With a big smile, Sam reached over to clasp his brother's shoulder as the older man turned the card around to stare at the picture again.  "Must be something in the water.  Guess we should warn Jo and Ash to stick to beer the next time they come over, right?”

 

Dean just nodded, appearing to only halfway hear what his brother was saying.  Sam gave him a little shake.  "Hey, you ok?"

 

Castiel hadn't taken his eyes off Dean since the big reveal, waiting to see his husband's reaction.  He worried the inside of his lower lip between his teeth.  They both wanted kids; they’d had a very serious discussion about that only a few months after they’d gotten married.  But, they decided to wait at least two years before even starting to try for a baby, wanting to enjoy their time as a newly married couple first.  That two year mark had just passed in September.  Castiel had been surprised when only a couple of months after giving up the birth control, he started noticing subtle changes in his body.  He never expected to get pregnant so soon, figuring it’d take at least a year of trying before anything happened.

 

Slowly, Dean twisted in the seat and lifted his gaze up to Castiel.  The smile that lit up his face and watery green eyes was absolutely breathtaking.  Castiel’s breath was literally taken away when Dean rose to his feet and cupped his face in his hands, unabashedly kissing him hard and deep right in front of Sam and Jess.

 

Dean whispered softly against Castiel’s lips, “You’re gonna make me a daddy.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied with a big smile.  They stayed locked together, oblivious to everything around them until Sam cleared his throat.

 

“I think we’ll be heading out now before you two have baby sex on the table.”  Sam stood up reaching out a hand for Jess while she gave her brothers-in-law big hugs.

 

“Baby sex is awesome stuff!” she piped up as she carefully skirted around the table to join her husband.

 

Dean’s face contorted into a mix of _hell-yeah_ and _oh-gross-my-little-brother-has-sex-with-his-pregnant-wife_.  Castiel laughed as they ushered their guests to the front door.

 

At the front door, while Jess and Sam bundled up against the wet January evening, Castiel asked, “Can you keep the secret a little longer?  It’s still early.”

 

Jess dragged Castiel into another hug.  “Sure thing.  Just let us know when you’re ready to let everybody know.”

 

“We will,” he replied, squeezing her gently before he and Dean waved them away and watched them cross the streetlight lit pavement to their own house.

 

When they finally closed the door, Dean tugged Castiel into the living room ignoring his protests that the dishes needed to be put in the dishwasher and the leftovers needed to go in the fridge.  They settled onto the couch, curled up together not bothering to turn on the TV or a lamp. 

 

“We’re gonna have a baby,” Dean said softly as he nuzzled Castiel’s ear and held him a little tighter than usual.  He was still a shell shocked at the news. 

 

“That’s can happen when we have sex after throwing away the birth control pills,” Cas said dryly.

 

Dean was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Cas was really pregnant, that there was a little person, a little bit of both of them, floating beneath where his hand rested on Cas’s still flat stomach.  A stomach that, now that he really paid attention to it, was a little softer than usual, but that could have easily been because of the constant grazing they both indulged in during the endless string of holiday parties that had been held since Thanksgiving.

 

They were quiet for several long minutes, both too bogged down with their own thoughts, until Cas turned around in Dean’s arms to look him in the eye.  “It’s a little sooner than we planned, but that’s ok, right?”

 

Dean read the worry in the lines of Cas’s forehead and something inside him melted.  He smiled, reaching up to cup his husband’s jaw.  “Now, a year from now, five years from now.  Our second one, our third one.  I’d still be scared just as shitless.  So, yeah, it’s ok.”

 

Cas smiled and Dean was struck by how his blue eyes already seemed to glow a little bit brighter than usual.  “Happy birthday, Dean.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Something happened overnight.  Some switch flipped in Castiel's brain and he went from _the blood test and sonogram say I’m pregnant, but I don’t feel pregnant_ to _holy shit, I have 7 months to go and this is already horrible_.  Relentless rolling waves of nausea assaulted him as soon as the alarm went off at 5 am.  He hit the snooze, something he rarely ever did, and rigidly curled on the edge the bed taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to settle his stomach. 

 

Dean slept on, blissfully unaware of Castiel’s discomfort.  His alarm wouldn’t go off for another two hours.  After only a few weeks of moving in together, they decided to stop trying to wake up together or to wait up until they were both home to go to bed.  Castiel worked long shifts at the hospital and regularly bounced between working the day shift and the night shift.  Dean had had a more predictable schedule to begin with when he was still on patrol, but ever since making detective last year, he was routinely called away from home at all hours of the day.  But, that made their mornings and evenings together more special since they were sometimes few and far between.

 

Castiel was facing a 24-hour shift at the hospital after switching shifts with Balthazar so he could have yesterday off for Dean's birthday.  He groaned at the thought of being at the hospital all day with a queasy stomach.  It was right at that moment that his brain decided to taunt him with phantom smells – sharp antiseptic, acrid urine, coppery blood, and all other manner of putrid scent combinations that had been seared into his olfactory system’s memory.  His stomach turned and he tore out of the bed with a hand pressed firmly to his mouth to hold back the tide.

 

The smell of his own vomit didn't help matters. 

 

Minutes later after he was done heaving the last of Dean’s wonderful birthday dinner into the toilet bowl, he heard water running in the sink, but didn’t look up to see what Dean was doing until he felt a warm hand massaging firmly at the back of his neck. 

 

“Gonna be like this from now on?” Dean asked softly, offering a wet washcloth when Castiel finally pushed away from the toilet and sat on the edge of the tub, still within reach of the commode.

 

“God, I hope not.”  Castiel opened the cloth across his palms and buried his face in the cool damp material.

 

Dean sat down next to him, running his broad hand up and down Castiel’s spine.  The motion calmed Castiel’s trembling body.

 

“I haven’t thrown up since a frat kegger somebody dragged me to when I was in pre-med.”  He sighed as he pulled the washrag away from his face and gave Dean a miserable look.  “I have a long shift today.”

 

Dean lightly pressed his lips to Castiel’s temple.  “There's no way you're going for a run this morning, so go back to bed for another hour.  You’ll still have plenty of time to get ready for work.”

 

The suggestion was very tempting, but he needed to take a shower and read the emails that he’d neglected yesterday in favor of spending the whole day with Dean.  Before he could protest, Dean led him back to bed and tucked him in with a tender kiss to his forehead. 

 

Padding barefoot to the door, Dean turned back with a smile and said, “I think we still have some ginger ale left over from New Year’s.  I’ll be right back.”

 

This became their new morning routine for the next three weeks.  At first, it was bearable only because it was actually _morning_ sickness.  Castiel felt horrible after right after waking up, but if he laid completely motionless for a few minutes and took a few calming deep breaths he could get up and start his day as usual.  Sometimes that didn't work and he’d scramble to the bathroom to throw up.  When he’d come back to bed, Dean would have a tray of saltines and ginger ale waiting for him and Castiel would try to relax in bed for an hour or so to let his stomach settle before getting up again to get ready for work.  Dean secretly liked it when Castiel lingered in bed so he could begin his day spooned up behind him, stroking the growing pudge of his middle.

 

By the middle of February, his morning sickness started lingering far past the A.M. hours. 

 

"Cassie, are you alright?" Balthazar inquired from the other side of the bathroom door in the doctor's lounge.  There was clear concern in his voice.  "This is the second time this week you've thrown up.  I believed your excuse of food poisoning the first time, but I don't buy it now."

 

Castiel sighed as he thoroughly scrubbed his hands in the sink, trying to will away the nausea now caused by the strong flowery scent of industrial-grade antibiotic soap.  It was actually the seventh time he'd thrown up at work this week (and the third time today), but only the second time Balthazar had caught him.  His nausea had completely ruined his Valentine’s Day plans with Dean a few days ago.  Instead of chocolate and roses, his dear husband brought him a 2-liter of Canada Dry and a bag of oyster crackers.  

 

He and Dean were set to announce the pregnancy to their family and friends after his 12-week checkup next week; so far only Sam and Jess knew they were expecting.  He dropped a hand down to his stomach, rubbing ruefully over the little bump that was just beginning to poke out below his naval.  It looked like the kid was going to out them sooner than they planned.

 

Castiel opened the bathroom door and gave his colleague a sheepish look.  They had become good friends over the past two years and he did feel a little guilty at not sharing the news with Balthazar, especially since he would be just as good as Jess for quietly running interference whenever Castiel had to suddenly bolt to the bathroom.

 

Glancing around, Castiel made sure the room was empty before confessing.  "I'm pregnant."

 

A bright smile split the transplanted Brit's handsome face.  "Oh, Castiel.  That's wonderful!  How far along are you?

 

"About 11 weeks…Balthazar, I have patients waiting,” Castiel protested as he found himself being ushered over to a sofa to sit down.

 

"Just sit and rest for a few minutes.  Trust me, it'll help you feel better in the long run."  The other doctor made a placating gesture and fetched a ginger ale from the lounge fridge before joining him on the couch.  One perk to working at the hospital was the never ending supply of ginger ale, Sprite, and Coke on hand to soothe an upset stomach.  His friend was already mother-henning him, but Castiel found that he didn't mind in the least.  "Wait...so you and Jess are expecting at the same time?"

 

"Yes.  She's about 6 weeks ahead of me though."  Castiel popped the tab on the soda can and slowly sipped at the fizzy drink.

 

"Remind me to not drink the water at your house next time I’m over.  The last thing I need is a bun in this oven,” he said with a leer as he patted his own svelte abdomen.

 

Castiel laughed.  "We weren't planning to let everybody know until after my next doctor's appointment.”

 

Balthazar nodded.  The chance of miscarriage decreased after the first trimester.  Men had an even greater risk of miscarriage in the first three months than women and were even more wary about announcing their pregnancies too early.  Balthazar leaned back and propped his right ankle against his left knee.  "How are things going so far?"

 

"I'm nauseated and tired all the time, but I manage,” he replied with a shrug.  He expected to be miserable for the first few months, but he didn't realize just how miserable he'd end up being.  He was very jealous that Jess didn't seem to be suffering from any early pregnancy symptoms at all.  Hopefully, things would start to look up after a few more weeks. 

 

"How's Dean?"

 

Castiel smiled, gazing off at nothing.  Dean was very much in love with the idea of becoming a dad and had already started having one-sided conversations about music, cars, and comic books with their tiny little embryo whom he had nicknamed _Zep_.  "He is very happy."

 

Balthazar's smile softened and he reached out to pat Castiel's knee.  "Good.  I can see how happy you are, even if you are still a bit green around the gills at the moment."

 

Castiel ran a hand down his face with a little snort of laughter.  It was already a relief to have someone else at work who knew he was pregnant, especially since Jess wasn't on shift today. 

 

"Had you been trying to get pregnant?"

 

He nodded.  "We stopped using birth control at the end of the summer, but figured it would be a least a year before I'd be able to conceive."

 

"How long were you on birth control?"

 

"20 years," he replied.  He had started taking suppressants when he was 13 and it became clear that his cycle was very irregular.  He spent the entirety of his seventh grade year at home because of how badly he reacted to the hormones his body started producing.  Sometimes it took several cycles to kick start ovulation after being suppressed for so long.

 

Balthazar gave a little whistle.  "I guess Dean is a very virile man."

 

Castiel nearly choked on his drink as Balthazar laughed.  He blushed and stood up.  "And, that's my cue to get back to my patients."

 

Balthazar stood and followed him out of the lounge.  He reached out touching Castiel's elbow gently before they could get sucked back into the rush of the department.  "If you need anything, you'll let me know, right?"

 

"Thanks, Balthazar."  Castiel smiled gratefully to his friend


	3. Chapter 3

Pamela Barnes wasn’t your typical OB/GYN.  She wore ripped jeans and well-worn graphic t-shirts under her white lab coat, and insisted that her patients call her Pam instead of Dr. Barnes.  Her office manager was a big burly dude named Jesse who had full-sleeve tattoos covering both arms and her nurse was a 5’2” spitfire named Casey who had bright purple streaks in her brunette hair. 

 

More than one patient had walked into the waiting room and then walked right back out again when they were met by walls painted deep red with black trim and decorated floor to ceiling with classic rock memorabilia.  Thankfully, Pam’s reputation as one of the best specialists in male reproduction in the Midwest brought those patients back into the office once they’d confirmed that the nameplate outside really did read _Pamela Barnes, MD_ instead of _Bucky’s Tattoo and Piercing Parlor_.

 

“Not every pregnant person wants to be surrounded by pastels and fluffy bunnies,” she’d said with a sly grin to Dean when he’d stared in awe at the original Woodstock poster hanging on the wall behind her desk during Castiel’s first appointment.  She had then taken them on a tour of the three patient rooms, each decorated in a different theme: British rock, 80s hair bands, and punk rock (complete with a black 1970 Fender Stratocaster signed by John Cummings hanging on the wall).

 

She was standing at the front desk arguing with Jesse over whether or not The Ramones were the ultimate punk band of all time when Dean and Castiel walked in for Castiel’s 12-week checkup.

 

“Hey, hey, Winchesters!” she exclaimed in greeting.  “I got finished with my last patient a little early.  So, unless you wanna hang out here with this lug,” she gestured to the tattooed man behind the desk, “you can c’mon back.”

 

Jesse rolled his eyes as he took Castiel’s insurance card.  “Our discussion ain’t over, boss lady.”

 

“Yeah yeah, sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink before leading Dean and Castiel through the door separating the waiting room from the patient area and down the hall to her office for the first part of the exam.

 

“Well, since I see you clutching that bottle of ginger ale like your life depends on it, I’m guessing you’re having a little trouble with nausea,” she said to Castiel as she sat behind the desk and flipped open his chart.

 

He smiled sheepishly, tilting the green plastic bottle against his bent knee once he and Dean were seated comfortably on the leather loveseat in front of the desk.  “Never leave home without it these days.”

 

“It’s morning somewhere, right?”  She smiled sympathetically when he nodded, and then clicked her pen to start taking notes.  “Give me a rundown of your all-day morning sickness.”

 

“Starts when I wake up, tapers off right before lunch, then comes back in the afternoon.  Sometimes it gets better by the time I get home and I can manage to eat dinner and keep it down.  Sometimes it never really goes away.”  Castiel shrugged, his knee bouncing anxiously until Dean leaned over to rest his palm on it.  He liked _being_ a doctor, but he never liked _going to_ a doctor for anything, even routine exams.

 

“But you are eating, right?”

 

“As much as I can, which isn’t very much.  I’ve been drinking at least one Ensure a day for the last couple of weeks.  At least it doesn’t taste too bad when it comes back up.”  He hated Ensure, hated the taste, hated the texture, but strangely enough it was one of the few things that didn’t make his nausea worse.  The nutritional benefits of the 8-ounce nutrient shakes far outweighed the fact that he had to pinch his nose to guzzle them down in one go.

 

Pam scribbled some notes down quickly before looking up again.  “Aside from the nausea, how are you feeling?”

 

“Tired and achy,” Castiel replied with a sigh.  If he wasn’t hunched over the toilet, then it was highly likely he was passed out somewhere fast asleep.  Dean had found him asleep early that morning sitting on the stool at the kitchen island with his head pillowed on top of his folded arms after a late shift at the hospital. 

 

“Any pain in your midsection?  Cramping?  Unusual discomfort?”

 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head.

 

“Any bleeding?  Any amount, even if you, as a physician, know it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 

“There was some spotting a couple of weeks ago for a few hours, but no cramping.  Haven’t seen any since then,” he said calmly, giving the hand on his knee a gentle squeeze when he felt Dean’s alarmed glance in his direction. 

 

"Was the spotting after sex, by any chance?”

 

He thought back.  That had been the one day he’d felt like a normal human being again and had celebrated with bacon cheeseburgers and couch sex while re-watching the first _Transformers_ movie.  He could feel the heat waves of embarrassment coming from where Dean sat next to his right. “Yeah, it was.”

 

“I uh…I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Dean asked in a small voice.

 

Castiel squeezed his hand comfortingly and gave him a gentle smile.  “No, not at all.”

 

Pam smiled reassuringly at both of them.  “Your body is going through a lot of changes and your hormones are all over the place.  There’s a lot of blood going down to your cervix right now and sometimes it can get irritated during sex.  It’s usually not painful and usually not a problem, but you might want to hold off on getting too amorous with each other for a few weeks, just to let things settle down a bit.”

 

“Hard to get it up when I have to vomit every few hours,” Castiel grumbled.  Less than two hours after the movie ended, he’d come to regret the vigorous activity and greasy burgers.

 

The doctor chuckled.  “That should change in couple of weeks.  You’ll be firmly in the second trimester.  Your hormones will change again and you’ll be in Horny City.  Just remember, there’s no such thing as too much lube!”

 

She went through a few more questions to get an idea of Castiel’s general health and what changes he was noticing, reassuring him and Dean that everything he was experiencing was totally normal for this stage the pregnancy.  Finally, she flipped the folder closed and smiled brightly to them.  “Time for me to get my hands all up in your business.”

 

They headed down the hall to the exam room decorated with all things British Rock: framed Led Zeppelin T-shirts, posters from several tours of The Who, and a replica of Paul McCartney’s violin bass.  Needless to say, it was Dean’s favorite room and kept him occupied for the first ten minutes or so of the physical exam.

 

Pam breezed through Castiel’s vital signs, but frowned slightly when she weighed him and entered the new information into his chart.  “You’ve only gained five pounds so far.”

 

Castiel slumped off of the scale and settled up on the examination table.  Dean left his perusal of the AC/DC album covers taking up one corner of the room to stand by the side of the bed.  His husband seemed at a loss for what to do, so Castiel held out his hand for Dean to take.  He had to admit, tagging along to a doctor’s appointment was probably one of the most boring things for the person who wasn’t the patient, but he was very glad Dean wanted to come with him.

 

“Normally, we’d see between seven and ten pounds of weight gain at this point,” Pam said before she did a quick heart and lung check.  She flipped her stethoscope over the back of her neck and helped Castiel lay down on the table.  She continued, ”But, with your history of nausea, it’s not too concerning yet.  You’ll need to keep a close eye on your weight for the next few weeks.  If it doesn’t start going up like it should, then we’ll need work on a diet plan and get you some calorie supplements.  You should start gaining one to two pounds a week.  If you start losing weight or haven’t been able to keep anything down for a day, then you need to call me ASAP, capiche?”

 

He nodded as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to shimmy his pants and boxers down low on his hips.  “Any suggestions for food to try?” 

 

Pam spread a flimsy paper drape over Castiel’s lap before turning to the sonogram machine.  “BRAT’s always good.  It’ll be easy on your stomach and won’t cause you too much discomfort if you do throw it up later.  Eat smaller meals and eat more frequently.  Keep something to munch on in the pocket of your lab coat while you’re at work.  Graham crackers, carrots and celery, Goldfish, whatever floats your boat, whatever you can keep down.  The Ensure is a good idea and you might want to keep drinking one of those every day for the duration of your pregnancy as a good way to get some of the vitamins and nutrients you might not otherwise get with whatever actual food you might eat during the day.”

 

She squeezed gel onto the transducer.  “I’m required by law to warn you that this stuff is colder than a witch’s teet.”

 

Castiel sucked in a breath when Pam pressed the frigid end of the wand against his bare abdomen.  Dean’s hand tightened around his as black and gray blobs undulated on the sonogram’s screen.

 

“There we are,” Pam said with a smile as she found the right spot above Castiel’s pelvic bone and the profile of their fetus came into view.  “Lookin’ good, kid.”

 

She quickly pointed out the parts of the baby that were visible, its large head, its legs tucked in close to its body, its arm outstretched from its abdomen almost as though it was waving at them.  Pam took a few measurements while Castiel and Dean stared awestruck at the screen.  Sure they’d gotten to see the baby at the last appointment, but an 8-week fetus looked more like a lima bean than a baby.  Now, there was no mistaking that there was a tiny person growing inside Castiel.

 

The fetus kicked out with its legs and gave a half twist on the screen, obscuring its facial features.

 

“Looks like somebody’s awake.”  Pam chuckled.

 

“I um…I didn’t feel anything,” Castiel said, concerned.

 

Pam moved the transducer trying to keep up with the fidgety baby.  “Wasn’t expecting you to.  You probably won’t feel anything for another few weeks and even then you’ll probably think it’s just gas.  I’ll start asking about movement at your appointment next month.  We’ll check for gender next time too, if you two want to know?”

 

Castiel glanced up at Dean who grinned and said, “Hell yeah, we wanna know.”

 

Dean had absolutely hated not knowing that Liam was a boy until Sam brought the newborn out of the delivery room to meet his uncles, though it had been very entertaining to watch him try for six months to convince Sam and Jess that they really did want to know the sex of their first child before it was born.  They insisted they wanted to be surprised. This time they decided they couldn't wait and found out last week that baby number two was another boy.

 

“Alright, I’ll mark that down,” Pam said with a smile.  “Just one more thing and then I’ll print you some new pictures to show off and get you out of here.”

 

She hit a button on the sonogram machine and the room was filled with a loud, watery _wub-wub-wub_.

 

Castiel immediately teared up and clutched at Dean’s hand.  Dean looked confused for a second before he gasped.  “Holy shit.”

 

“Well, guys, that’s your baby’s heartbeat and it sounds just perfect to my ears,” Pam said with a firm nod after listening carefully to the quick, rhythmic pulse for several seconds.

 

Dean leaned down, kissing Castiel hard.  Castiel cupped Dean’s face holding him in place as tears rolled down both their cheeks.

 

“That’s our kid, Cas,” he murmured softly against Castiel’s lips.  “That’s _our baby_.”

 

Castiel beamed up at Dean through his tears and laughed happily as their baby’s heartbeat continued to drum a fast, steady tattoo in the exam room.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRAT = bananas, rice, applesauce, toast - a wonderfully bland diet for people with upset tummies


	4. Chapter 4

“Dean, this is really dumb.”

 

“Nah, c’mon,” Dean said, green eyes dancing merrily.   “It’ll be fun.”

 

“I don’t even get the reference.”  Castiel tried to be annoyed, but it was hard when Dean looked so damn happy.

 

“Seriously?  Classic Vanilla Ice, dude.”

 

“Won’t they think it’s weird that we’re bringing two bags of ice to a bar that has an industrial ice maker back in the kitchen?”

 

“Probably, but then they’ll get a good laugh out of it.  Besides, we gotta keep up with Sam and Jess after the grandpa cup thing they did the Christmas before Liam came and then the whole _bun-in-the-oven_ thing they did at Thanksgiving.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes fondly at his husband, shaking his head in affectionate exasperation as they headed for the door of the Roadhouse.  Almost a month had passed since Castiel last stepped foot in Ellen’s restaurant for the weekly Tuesday night gathering.  He had either been at work or staying within comfortable reach of his own bathroom while everybody else got together. 

 

Most of the bar’s patrons called out in greeting when the pair of Winchesters walked in.  Several tables had been pushed together in the middle of the dining room in anticipation of two dozen people sitting down to eat together.  Sam, Jess, Kevin, Channing, and Linda were sitting at one end of the long table chatting over drinks and a massive plate of nachos covered in cheese, bacon, and jalapenos.  Becky was sitting at the opposite end of the table showing Andrea wedding cake ideas from an overstuffed white satin-covered binder while Chuck tried desperately to get his fiancée to put away the notebook for just one night.  Bobby, Rufus, Jim, and Benny sat at the bar discussing the woes of the world while Ellen poured beer from the tap into frosty glass mugs.  Jo, Charlie, Gilda, and Bess were antagonizing Ash and Garth who were in the middle of a game of pool.  Margaux, Elise, and little Liam were dancing up a storm to REO Speedwagon’s _Take It on the Run_ next to the Jukebox.

 

“I know this is a little unorthodox,” Dean announced as he and Castiel headed straight for the tiny karaoke stage in one corner of the room.  “But before we start chowing down, Cas and I wanna play a little game of charades.”

 

There were a lot of skeptical looks from around the room as Dean and Castiel positioned themselves on the stage.  Dean held up two 10-pound bags of ice from the gas station across the street while Castiel pointed at his belly with a look on his face that said _Please save me from my dork of a husband_.  The skeptical looks turned into confused looks as everybody tried to figure out the puzzle.

 

“Dean’s gonna ice Cas?” Garth asked, tilting his head to the side and wrinkling his sharp nose in concentration.

 

“I figured it’d be the other way ‘round,” Bobby said gruffly against the rim of his glass.

 

Dean shot the old man a dirty look while Castiel chuckled and reached over to pat Dean’s back consolingly.

 

“You got any idea what they’re up to?” Kevin asked Sam as several other people shouted out random guesses.

 

Sam smiled and shook his head, spreading his arm out over the back of Jess’s chair.  “We’re not allowed to participate.”

 

“You drip on my stage, Winchester, and you better clean it up,” Ellen warned from behind the bar, pointing a finger in their direction though it was hard to tell exactly which one of them she was pointing at.

 

Channing suddenly piped up, drumming on the table with both hands excitedly.  “Ooh oh!  _Ice Ice Baby_!  OH MY GOD!  YOU GUYS ARE PREGNANT!”

 

“Bingo!” Dean called out over the din.

 

Chairs scraped against the old, abused hardwood floor as everybody rushed up to crowd around Dean and Castiel.  Somebody grabbed the bags of ice from Dean leaving his arms free for hugs and handshakes and to pass around the newest sonogram picture that they’d just gotten from Castiel’s checkup a few hours ago.  

 

“Photo op!” Charlie said, dragging Jess over to Castiel as she brandished her phone.  The redhead maneuvered the two of them so they were back to back.  “Ok, pull your shirts tight so I can get a belly shot!”

 

In all of the hubbub, well-wishing, and hugging, Castiel managed to catch Dean’s eye.  His husband smiled back at him, bright and wide, so full of happiness that Castiel couldn’t help but beam a big grin back at him.  For the moment, his weeks of nausea and exhaustion were swept away by the infectious enthusiasm of the people who had adopted him as one of their own.  He was sure his own family would be just as excited about the news when he and Dean called them after they got home later.  But right now, a sudden craving for a cheeseburger with extra mustard took center stage, and Castiel’s stomach let loose a growl loud enough to be heard by everyone in a 10-foot diameter.

 

“Time to get dinner on the table so my baby can eat!” Dean exclaimed as he waded through the crowd to rescue Castiel from Becky just as she started grilling him about his due date to see if it was going to be a potential conflict for her wedding day since Dean was one of Chuck’s groomsmen.

 

As everybody headed back to the table, Dean pulled Castiel close, kissing him sweetly.  “You feeling ok?”

 

“I’m good, for now.”  He smiled, leaning into Dean’s chest and wrapping his arms snuggly around Dean’s waist.  He slipped one hand up the back of Dean’s t-shirt, hidden from view by the dark green flannel over shirt Dean wore, to rub along his bare lower back.  Hearing their baby’s heartbeat, getting a new picture, and sharing the news with their friends and family had Castiel riding a high of good feelings that he hoped would last longer than just a few hours.  As he nuzzled against Dean’s neck, he murmured softly, “Maybe I can show you how good I feel when we get home.”

 

Dean squeezed him tight.  “Pam said we shouldn't do that for a while.”

 

“There are plenty of other things we can do that are just as good,” he said with a smirk, catching Dean’s earlobe gently between his teeth.

 

Dean flopped his forehead down on Castiel’s shoulder, groaning weakly.  “Think Ellen’ll throw our stuff in some takeout boxes?”

 

“Nope, we’re eating here because I’m starving and you won’t let me eat in the Impala.”  Castiel chuckled and untangled himself from Dean’s arms before leading him over to the table where plates of food were starting to be delivered.  “Food now, sex later.”

 

“Alright, but if you fall asleep, I’m just gonna hump your leg,” Dean threatened, leaning in close to Castiel’s ear after they sat down.

 

“Fine by me,” Castiel mumbled happily around a mouthful of the best burger in Lawrence (available to the public anyway).


	5. Chapter 5

Dean trudged up the garage steps shortly after two o'clock in the morning.  He and Benny were up to their ears in witnesses and evidence from two armed robberies at two different downtown banks earlier in the week.  They had each taken turns crashing on the conference room couch for a couple of hours rather than going home.  Andrea and the girls were out of town for the weekend visiting Benny's in-laws and Castiel was working a double shift so there was no reason for either of them to go home when a pair of armed suspects was still on the loose.   But, Hendrickson had finally forced them out of the office after a solid 48 hours of investigating, threatening to put them on Jayhawks game day traffic duty at the coliseum if either of them showed their faces at headquarters before 24 hours had passed. 

 

The light by the recliner was on, so was the light over the stove.  He frowned as he tossed his keys in the basket on the little table by the door.  Cas was a stickler for having all the lights turned off if neither of them was home.  Dean was pretty sure his husband wasn’t home; the BMW wasn’t in the garage and Cas wasn’t supposed to get off work for another five hours.

 

He went through the first floor of the house, double checking that the front and back doors were locked, turning off the lights that were mysteriously left on, before heading upstairs to bed.  He was weighing the benefits of taking a shower first over going straight to bed when he flicked on the bathroom light and found a lump of blankets curled up on the floor by the toilet.

 

He went down on his knees, exhaustion from a long two days at work completely forgotten as he reached out to uncover his prone husband.  “Hey, babe.  You ok?”

 

Cas just groaned, knuckles going white around the edge of the blankets when Dean tried to pull them away from his face.  He had been riding a six-week long high where he’d been feeling pretty good.  He’d been waking up with no morning sickness at all and had been able to go out for his usual morning runs, though he had assured Dean he was sticking to a shorter circuit of the neighborhood and not taking the longer trek through the wooded trail at the park down the street.  His appetite had finally come back and he was eating like a normal person again, though his weight gain was still a bit slow.  His energy level was back up and he’d even gone to Babies R Us with Jess and Charlie a couple of times to start getting ideas for the nursery.  Dean thought for sure the early pregnancy nausea was gone.

 

“C’mon, sweetheart.  Let’s get you off the cold floor and into bed,” Dean coaxed gently, working his hands under Cas’s shoulders to help him sit up. 

 

As soon as Cas was upright, he lurched violently towards the toilet, throwing his head into the bowl and retching up thin yellow bile. 

 

“When did you start throwing up?”  Dean reached for the nearly dried out wash cloth wadded up next to the sink, turning on the tap and soaking it with cool water before wringing it out.  

 

Cas lifted a shaky hand for the damp rag to wipe at his mouth.  “Noon,” he croaked.

 

“Shit, man.”  Dean grimaced when Cas leaned back away from the toilet and he finally got a good look at him.  His husband’s face was pale, very nearly green, though there was a bright flush darkening his cheeks.  He had dark bruises under both eyes.  Greasy bangs hung limply against his forehead.  He dragged his tongue along his chapped lips, but the action did nothing to help the dryness.  Dean reached out to cup his face.  He was warm, much warmer than he should be, though he shivered at Dean’s touch.

 

Dean dug his cellphone out of his back pocket and quickly thumbed through his contact list as Cas turned to hang his head back over the toilet.  His shoulders gave an aborted heave, but there was very obviously nothing left in his stomach to come back up.

 

“Lawrence Memorial Hospital,” came the too-perky-for-2-am voice on the other end of the line.  “How may I direct your call?”

 

“Emergency department,” Dean replied gruffly as he ran a hand up and down Cas’s spine.

 

“One moment, please.” 

 

The line clicked and rang once before someone new picked up.  “ED, this is Meg.”

 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief that somebody he actually knew answered.  “Hey, Meg.  It’s Dean.”

 

“Hey, Dean-o.  I dropped Clarence off at your house around lunchtime today.  He threw up a couple of times here and wasn’t looking too good.  Guess the morning sickness came back.  He doin’ ok now?” she asked, real concern lacing her voice.

 

“I don’t think it’s morning sickness.”  Cas leaned back heavily into Dean’s chest, his own chest heaving as he breathed harshly through his nose.  His body still gave little spasms as though he was on the verge of vomiting again. 

 

“Is he still throwing up?”

 

“Yeah, but it’s mostly bile and dry heaves now.” Dean cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder, holding Cas close.  His husband trembled in his arms.

 

“Fever?”

 

“Yeah, but he’s not sweating.” 

 

“You need to get him here ASAP.  Who’s his OB?”

 

“Pam Barnes.”

 

“Ok, I’ll call her while you’re on the way.”

 

Dean ended the call and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.  Gently he jostled Cas who had faded off to sleep.  “Hey, Cas.  C’mon.  Let’s get up.  I gotta take you back to the hospital.”

 

“Donwanna,” he slurred on a breath rank with sour stomach smell.

 

“Sorry, you don’t get a choice on this.” Dean hefted them both up from the bathroom floor, pulling the blanket up with them to wrap around Cas’s shoulders.  He half-dragged, half-carried his husband down to the cold garage and into the car. 

 

The streets were mercifully empty at half past two in the morning and he made the usually 20-minute drive in less than 10.  Dean pulled the Impala to a screeching halt in the ambulance bay as Meg ran out with a wheelchair.  Together they got Cas into the chair and into the ER.

 

“Dr. Barnes is on her way.  She said she was coming from Kansas City so it might take her a little while to get here.  I paged one of the OBs on-call and he should be here soon.  Uriel’ll take a look at him for now,” Meg said as she started taking Cas’s vital signs.

 

Dean stood on the opposite side of the bed, holding Cas’s hand tightly, while Meg asked a few questions that were answered with sluggish nods or shakes of his head.  Cas wasn’t in any pain other than the upper gastrointestinal cramps still causing him to dry heave every few minutes.  There was no pain in his lower belly.  He hadn’t seen any bleeding.  He couldn’t remember the last time he peed.  Everything he tried to eat or drink had come back up.

 

A dark-skinned, imposing-looking man in a white lab coat and pale blue scrubs pushed back the curtain circling the bed as Meg tried to get an IV started in the back of Cas’s right hand.  His severe demeanor softened when he reached down to lay a hand on Cas’s shoulder while Meg relayed the initial information she had gathered to him.

 

“Castiel,” he rumbled deeply as he started his own assessment, big hands carefully pressing into Cas’s abdomen as he gauged the reaction to his touch.  “We’re going to work on getting you rehydrated and easing your nausea while we wait for the OB to come down and check on the baby.”

 

The doctor turned to Dean.  “How has he been feeling over the last few days?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t really know,” he replied with a sigh.  “I’ve been stuck at work.”

 

Meg patted Dean’s bicep comfortingly.  It was weird to see normally snarky Meg in caring-nurse-mode.  “He was doing ok.  In fact, just about every time I saw him, sans patient, he was chowing down on something, so his appetite was up where it should be.  He hasn’t been complaining of any fatigue or nausea, not that he would, but it was easy to see that he’s been feeling good.  Been smiling a lot, which is weird for him.  I haven’t seen him smile that much since the two of you got back from your honeymoon.”  She gave Dean a little smirk before turning her attention back to Uriel.  “I don’t think this is pregnancy related.”

 

Uriel nodded in agreement with Meg. “Neither do I, but we’ll have to wait for the final word from the OB.” 

 

The doctor and nurse left the bedside, leaving Dean and Cas alone in semi-privacy behind the thin curtain.  Thankfully, the ER was relatively quiet this late at night.  Dean sat down on the hard plastic chair next to the bed and wrapped both of his hands around Cas’s, lifting it up to press his lips against Cas’s knuckles.   Cas was already out like a light, body relaxed against the thin mattress now that the anti-nausea medicine was in his system.  Dean reached up to brush his hair off of his forehead.  He needed to call Sam or Bobby to let them know where they were, but he was just too worried to do anything except stare at his husband as he slept.

 

After some time, Dean wasn’t sure how long, the thud of boot heels and squeak of a wheel announced someone’s quick approach on the other side of the curtain. 

 

“Hey,” Pam said breathlessly as she pulled back the drape and pushed the sonogram machine close to Cas’s bedside.  “I got here as fast as I could.  Did the on-call guy show up?” 

 

“Nope.  You beat him here,” Dean replied, looking up at the harried doctor.  She had on no makeup and her hair was pulled back in a messy top knot.

 

“Did this come on suddenly or has he been having problems with nausea again?” Pam asked as she set up the machine.

 

“Sudden.  Meg said it started this morning.  He’s been feeling fine since his last appointment with you.”

 

“Sounds like might be gastroenteritis then.  I hear it’s been making the rounds.  Shouldn’t be too big a deal as long as we get him rehydrated fast and he gets his appetite back quick.  He’s staying on the low end of the weight gaining scale, so he can’t afford to lose any.”  She gently shook Cas’s shoulder, rousing him.  “Hey, bright eyes, I’m gonna take a look at your baby, ok?”

 

Cas turned his head towards her, barely opening his eyes, and nodded once.

 

Pam pulled back the blanket, baring the pronounced curve of Cas’s stomach.  He gave a full body shiver when she pressed the cold wand against his skin, his teeth rattling loud enough to be heard.  Dean squeezed his hand, eyes glued to the image on the sonogram screen.  Pam pressed a button on the machine and the scratchy rapid pulse of the baby’s heart came through the speaker.  

 

She listened and watched for a few tense moments before relaxing.  “Well, guys, looks like she’s doing ok, so we can give all our focus to making Papa here feel better.”

 

“She?” Cas perked up.

 

“Yep,” Pam said with a relieved smile.  “You two are having a little girl."

 

Cas's lower lip trembled as he reached down to place his hand on the side of his belly, not caring about the gel smeared across his skin.  Dean leaned down to kiss his forehead, tears welling up in his eyes.  His heart eased back down into his chest from where it had lodged up in his throat the moment he found Cas miserable on the bathroom floor.

 

“Thought I should give you a little bit of happy news to offset the bad news that I’m gonna get you admitted upstairs for a couple of days, just until I know you’re able to keep food down on your own.  I want to see you gain at least a pound before I let you go home.”  Pam grabbed some paper towels from the cabinet next to the bed and began to clean off Cas’s stomach.  “This illness shouldn’t affect her, but I want to see you in my office every other week for the next month just to make sure she stays on track growth-wise, ok?”

 

They both nodded, still looking at the sonogram screen.

 

Meg poked her head in.  “Hey, Doc.  Room’s ready for them, if you’re done.”

 

Pam tossed the sticky paper towels into the bin.  “Let’s get these three settled for the rest of the night.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much love to my dear readers. Thank you for your kudos and kind comments!

They traced the stomach bug's origins back to Liam's daycare.  While their nephew had been lucky enough to not get sick, he had apparently been a little germ transporter and passed it on to Castiel sometime over the last week.  Thankfully, the baby wasn’t showing any ill-effects from Castiel getting sick, her heartbeat still rapid and strong whenever the nurses checked it with the handheld doppler.  Sam and Jess stopped by Castiel’s hospital room on the second day offering profuse apologizes and homemade chicken soup from Ellen, and Sam promised to grill the daycare director on the effectiveness of the center’s sick child and sanitation policies.

 

After gaining a pound and a half over two days, which was mostly just regaining the water weight he had lost, Pam let Castiel go home with strict instructions to up his caloric intake, drink plenty of fluids, and rest for a week before going back to work.  She wasn’t putting him on strict bedrest, but wanted him off his feet and doing as little as possible for the next few days.

 

“What do you want for dinner?” Dean asked as soon as they walked into the house from the garage.  Castiel had been so ready to be home that he hadn't wanted to waste time waiting for food in a drive-thru line.

 

“Mac and cheese,” he replied without having to think about it.  He hadn’t really started having cravings yet, not for any one thing in particular, but he’d occasionally get the taste and smell of something in his head and just had to have whatever it was.  Right now, he wanted macaroni and cheese so badly his mouth was watering.

 

“Can do,” Dean said with a grin, glad to finally be able to do something useful for Castiel and the baby.  He helped Castiel out of his coat before pulling him further into the living room, towards the couch.  “You wanna rest in here while I cook?”

 

Castiel slumped against Dean’s chest, face pressed into his neck, as his husband’s arms came around his waist.  He’d missed Dean even though Dean had never strayed further than the vending machine down the hall for the last two days.  The narrow hospital bed and IV tubing weren’t conducive to effective snuggling.  “I’m gonna take a shower, wash off the hospital.”

 

“When you’re done, just stay upstairs in bed.  I’ll bring the food up to you, ok?”

 

He smiled.  “Ok.”

 

Castiel didn’t complain when Dean accompanied him resting one hand on Castiel’s lower back as they climbed the stairs.  He claimed he just wanted to change out of his jeans and into pajama pants.  If Dean wanted to hover a little bit, Castiel was very willing to indulge him for a little while.  He was feeling drained from being on the wrong side of the hospital bed and from not being able to rest as comfortably as he would have if he had been at home.  Under any other circumstances, he would have tolerated only a couple hours of IV rehydration after battling a stomach virus before signing himself out, AMA if he’d had to, but he was willing to endure a little bit of personal discomfort to make sure the baby was ok and tried not to complain too much about the 48-hour hospital stay.  At least they’d gotten to hear the baby’s heartbeat every six hours.

 

After grabbing some fresh clothes from the dresser, Dean joined Castiel in the bathroom where he was swapping the gauze and paper tape covering the IV site on the back of his hand for a waterproof Band-Aid. 

 

“You gonna be ok?” Dean asked as he pulled a clean t-shirt over his head.

 

“Yeah, I’m good.”  Castiel stripped out of his shirt and pants, catching Dean’s eye in the mirror when he was finally naked. 

 

Dean’s face went all soft as he stepped behind Castiel so he could slide his hands around Castiel’s belly.  He palmed the bump affectionately.  It was definitely noticeable without clothes on and was beginning to be more noticeable with clothes on as the days passed.  Castiel’s rounded stomach poked out in a way that clearly announced _there’s a baby in here_ , not _I need to lay off the cookies_.

 

“Have you felt her move yet?” Dean nosed along Castiel’s neck without taking his eyes off their reflection in the mirror.

 

Castiel shrugged, bumping his shoulder up under Dean’s chin.  “Not entirely sure.  I feel flutters sometimes, but they’re not really much different from how things usually feel down there, so it’s hard to tell.”

 

Dean kissed Castiel’s jaw and reluctantly let go of him, chuckling as Castiel’s stomach started growling.  “Guess I need to go get started on dinner, huh?”

 

“Your daughter and I would appreciate it,” he replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

Dean beamed.  He had been over the moon when they learned they were having a little girl.  Castiel knew Dean would have been just as happy if the baby was a boy, but there was something about knowing they would soon have a daughter that brought out a sweet tenderness in Dean.  “I’m gonna make you and baby girl the best damn mac and cheese ever.”

 

Smiling, Castiel gently pushed Dean towards the bathroom door.  “Bring me some orange juice and a pudding cup, too?”

 

“Will do,” Dean replied, quickly pecking Castiel’s cheek before heading back downstairs to get supper started.

 

After tossing a towel over the door, Castiel stepped into the shower, groaning in relief as he turned his face up into the steamy hot water.  As bad as the showers in the doctor’s lounge were, the ones in the patient rooms were even worse.  The water didn’t get much warmer than tepid and the pressure wasn’t much stronger than the mist setting on a garden hose. 

 

He took his time very carefully scrubbing every inch of his skin with a soapy washcloth, from the back of his neck to the inside of his belly button (it was still an innie at the moment), from the dip in his lower back to behind his knees, and finally between each of his toes.  He was very thankful that Dean had the brilliant idea to install a bench seat in the shower when they’d renovated the bathroom last year.  In addition to making shower sex much easier and more interesting, the tiled bench was obviously going to come in handy in a few months when his ungainly belly would no longer let him bend over to wash his legs and feet.

 

As much as he wanted to stay under the shower spray, he still hadn’t fully recovered from being sick and was getting tired as he worked to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.  He might have to convince Dean to switch out their current showerhead with a detachable one so he could shower sitting down if standing for long periods of time became uncomfortable later in his pregnancy.

 

Once the water swirling around his feet was clear of bubbles, Castiel turned off the water and pulled the towel down to dry off in the warmth trapped behind the shower walls.  Clean pajamas were waiting for him at the foot of the bed, and a tray of snacks, including the asked for pudding cup and OJ, was waiting on his nightstand.  He dressed quickly and curled up in the middle of the bed, hugging the pudding and a spoon to his chest as he fished around the covers for the TV remote.

 

By the time Dean came back upstairs with a second tray of food, Castiel had scraped the pudding cup clean, finished the glass of juice, and eaten a banana.  He was currently munching away on a handful of Goldfish crackers while watching an episode of _House of Cards_ on Netflix.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see you eat,” Dean said, grinning as he settled the footed tray over Castiel’s lap.

 

“I’m gonna get fat,” Castiel retorted with a mock pout, puffing out his cheeks in exaggeration. 

 

“Not fat,” Dean argued, handing him a fork and taking the bottle of orange juice off the tray to refill Castiel’s glass.  “Life sustaining.  Not fat,” he repeated more firmly.

 

Castiel took the fork from Dean and looked down at the bowl of pasta.  His eyes watered and he sniffled.  Dean had made him a box of store brand mac and cheese, instead of his super-secret-recipe, homemade baked macaroni and cheese that everybody always drooled over at picnics, and had managed to fry up two pieces of bacon into the shape of a heart to put on top of the cheesy mound.

 

“You remembered,” Castiel said quietly, his voice wobbling a little bit.  He rubbed at his eyes with one knuckle, feeling a little put off that processed orange cheese powder and elbow noodles were making him so emotional.

 

“I know if your mom was here, she’d fix this to help you feel better, so I figured it was worth a shot.”  Dean smiled gently as he carefully climbed up on the bed to snuggle into Castiel’s side while he ate.   Mary Winchester may have made Dean tomato rice soup when he wasn’t feeling good, but Amy Novak always fixed her boys mac and cheese with bacon when they were having bad days.

 

Castiel leaned over, mindful of the tray on his lap, and kissed Dean.  “You are the world’s best husband.”

 

After the empty tray had been moved to the floor and the TV turned off, Dean spooned up behind Castiel as close as humanly possible, his hand beneath Castiel’s sleep shirt, resting protectively over his bare belly.  They were asleep within minutes, thoroughly exhausted from the disruption the illness and hospital stay had caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AMA = against medical advice


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff.

“Who’s next?” Castiel asked as he walked up to the nurses’ station after finishing with his previous clinic patient.  When he’d returned to work after getting over the stomach virus, Balthazar had put him on duty in the hospital’s walk-in clinic, citing Pam’s suggestion that Castiel have shorter hours and a lighter work load.  He wasn’t exactly thrilled with his new, temporary position, but he couldn’t argue against the benefits of it.  While he easily saw twice as many patients during his 8-hour days as he did in the ED, he usually didn’t have to do much more than give each of them a five-minute exam, suss out the cause of their complaints, and write them a prescription.  There was less running around, less physical exertion, less chance of getting injured from a combative patient, and less stress.  Plus, he actually got to take a full lunch hour every day, which made his husband, his growing baby, and his obstetrician very happy. 

 

The job wouldn’t be half bad if it weren’t for his new co-workers.

 

Julie and Janice, two of the clinic nurses, flailed when they saw him approach, excitedly pointing towards a large bouquet of red and pink roses sitting at the end of the counter.  A white envelope that read _CAS_ in blocky handwriting was propped up against the glass vase.

 

“Is it your anniversary?”  Julie asked as she propped her chin in her hand and sighed dreamily.  Janice giggled.

 

He furrowed a brow, reaching for the card.  “No, we got married in September.”

 

“Maybe he has a secret admirer,” Janice said airily.

 

Julie smacked her arm.  “He’s happily married, you doof.”

 

Janice just shrugged as she stood up from her chair and leaned over the counter trying to get a better look at the card as Castiel pulled it from the envelope to read the message.

 

                _Happy 24 weeks!  Meet me at Mario’s when you get off work. – Love, Dean_

 

The baby responded quickly with a flurry of gentle kicks and punches to the rush of _HappyHappyHappy_ engulfing Castiel at Dean’s gesture.  He smiled, rubbing his rounded belly.  Over the last few weeks, he’d gotten much better at distinguishing the flutter of the baby moving around from the rumbles of his lunch digesting.  Her movements were strong enough now that he was just able to feel them from the outside.  Hopefully she’d be active later tonight so Castiel could give Dean a little surprise of his own.

 

“Aww!  Look at him!” Janice cooed.

 

“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” Julie gushed making Castiel scowl at both of them, which then made Janice _aww_ even more over how cute he was when he was grumpy!

 

He missed working with Meg and Jess; even Ruby was preferable to these two.  Sure, Meg and Ruby would have harassed him mercilessly had he received the flowers in the ED, but that would have been like being teased by sisters, rather than strangers. 

 

All of the clinic nurses were vapid and nosy, spending most of their time out at the central desk gossiping about the patients, the physicians, the other staff, and each other, not seeming to care who overheard them.  The close doctor-nurse relationship that Castiel was used to in the ED just wasn’t present in the clinic.  It was probably due to the fact that all of the hospital doctors cycled through clinic duty every few weeks so there was never enough time for the doctors and nurses to bond as a team.  There was an old fashioned feeling of _us versus them_ between the permanent clinic nurses and the constantly rotating roster of doctors.

 

The nurses had taken a keen interest in him though, probably because he was stuck with them for the next few months.  They tried to touch his belly, gave unsolicited advice, and shared pregnancy horror stories whenever he had to stop at the counter to get report on his next patient, but they never actually did anything nice for him.  Denise, who was thankfully in a patient room at the moment, complained non-stop about how awful it had been to be on her feet all day during her three pregnancies, but always cut him a dirty look whenever he asked to sit down at one of the desk computers at the nurses station instead of using one of the mobile standup units in the hallway.  Stacy never asked him for anything until he was pushing open the bathroom door about to pee on himself because the baby was using his bladder for a trampoline and she would _not_ back down until she got whatever it was she wanted from him.  He was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose.

 

Castiel slid the card back in its envelope and tucked it safely in the pocket of his lab coat, away from prying eyes.

 

“Would it be ok if I left the flowers here and picked them up on my way out?”  He didn’t want to leave them out in the open, but he didn’t trust leaving them in the lounge where someone might sneak out with them and there wasn’t enough room in his tiny locker to hide them safely away.

 

“Sure thing.  I’ll just tell everybody my boyfriend sent them to me,” Julie said, standing up to bury her nose in one of the pink buds without asking for permission.  “Oh!  Heavenly!”

 

Seeing that the nurses were too concerned with his flower delivery to give much care to which patient needed to be seen next, Castiel decided to just pick one of the occupied exam rooms at random and let them deal with the fall out if the one he chose wasn’t the next one on the list.

 

Annoying nurses aside, the flowers and promise of a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese from Mario’s buoyed him through the rest of the long afternoon.  At 5:30, he rushed out of the clinic with the vase tucked close to his chest, inhaling the heady tea-scent of the roses all the way out to the parking deck.  His husband was the best man on the planet and he intended to show Dean exactly how much he appreciated him when they got home later.

 

By the time he got to the restaurant, the Impala was already nosed into a space at the side of the old brick building.  Castiel pulled into the neighboring spot and climbed out of his car.  Thankfully the late afternoon was cool enough so he could leave the bouquet in the car without worrying about his flowers wilting.

 

The hostess smiled when he walked in and led him straight back to the cozy little booth at the back of the restaurant where Dean was waiting with a plate of fried ravioli and two big glasses of iced tea with lemon wedges.  Smiling, Dean slid out of the bench and pulled Castiel into a hug, one hand coming to rest on his stomach as was becoming his habit to do anytime they were close.

 

“Missed you two today,” he said, kissing him warmly.

 

"Missed you, too.”  Castiel leaned into Dean for just a few extra moments, letting the frustrations of dealing with his new coworkers melt away.  “The roses were beautiful, Dean.  Thank you.”

 

“Hey, I couldn’t let the six-month mark pass by without celebrating.”  Dean beamed at him and leaned down to give Castiel’s belly a gentle caress with both hands.  “Happy four months ‘til your birthday, sweet pea!”

 

They scooted into the same side of the booth together, Castiel on the outside in the likely case he needed to make a quick escape to the bathroom, and started chowing down on their appetizer while sharing little tidbits about their run-of-the-mill days.  Dean kept one arm comfortably looped behind Castiel, his hand gently rubbing Castiel’s hip as he talked about the spree of B&Es he and Benny had been investigating all week.  Once they’d finished the crispy ravioli, their waitress brought out a large steaming pizza while a second waiter carried a huge tray loaded with more food.

 

“Figured you’d be hungry and I’m starving, so I ordered everything as soon as I got here,” Dean said at Castiel’s suspicious look at all the food.  In addition to the pizza, there was a plate of meatballs in marinara sauce with spaghetti, a sampler platter with generous servings of lasagna, fettuccine alfredo, and chicken parmesan, a side of sautéed spinach and another of steamed broccoli, and a basket of garlic bread.  “Plus, ya know, wanted to make sure we’d have leftovers.”

 

He chuckled.  Dean had ordered enough to feed at least eight normal, non-pregnant people, but Castiel knew whatever they packed up to take home would be crumbs in empty containers by tomorrow afternoon.  Ever since he regained his appetite after getting sick, Dean made sure there was always plenty of food around to satisfy any munchie attack.

 

“What about dessert?” Castiel asked before biting down onto the point of his pizza slice, cheese stretching out long and thin without breaking between his mouth and the crust.

 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Dean replied, scooping a helping of lasagna onto his plate alongside a meatball and a spoonful of broccoli.

 

They didn’t talk much while they ate, just made happy sounds around mouthfuls of the best Italian food in Lawrence.  Castiel was conservative with his portions, not wanting to overstuff himself and end up in a food coma, though it was very tempting, but he had other plans for the night once they got home.  After he finished his pizza, he ate half a meatball, a single twirl of spaghetti, a few pieces of the breaded chicken cutlet, and a few forkfuls of spinach. 

 

As Dean reached over the table to pull a second piece of pizza onto his plate, Castiel leaned close to his ear, “I think it’d be nice to take dessert home.”

 

Dean’s hand stilled on the pizza server as he turned to look at Castiel.  Green eyes flicked from Castiel’s down to his lips.  “Oh, yeah?”

 

“Mmhmm,” Castiel purred softly, pressing a suggestive kiss to Dean’s neck.

 

Their waitress stopped by with a pitcher to top off their glasses of tea.  “Anything else I can get for you guys?”

 

Dean swallowed hard before clearing his throat.  “Can we get a limoncello cake and tiramisu to go?”

 

“Sure thing.  Need me to get all of this boxed up?”

 

“Please.  And the check, too.”  Dean nodded as he gave his mouth one final swipe with the napkin. 

 

Castiel slid across the bench to get out of the booth.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

Two large glasses of tea and a one-and-a-half-pound baby were currently vying for the same space.  Castiel hurriedly waddled toward the bathroom with one hand under his stomach, trying to lift some of the baby weight up off of his full bladder.  By the time he was finished, Dean was waiting by the front door with a pizza box in one hand and a large brown paper sack hanging from his elbow.

 

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen in,” he teased as he held the door open for Castiel to leave the building, both of them waving as the hostess wished them a good night.

 

“I should have had the Guinness people on speed dial for the world’s longest pee.  I thought I was going to have to flush just to keep it from overflowing.”

 

Dean laughed.  The sound was music to Castiel’s ears.  Nothing made him happier than when his husband was happy.  He wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist as they walked back to their cars.

 

“Meet you at home,” Castiel said with a kiss and a wink as he left Dean’s side.  “Try not to get pulled over.”

 

A wide black stripe of Impala tire rubber marred the exit of Mario’s parking lot for a week until the next spring rain storm came to wash it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be pregnant sex in the next chapter. Be forewarned. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! WARNING! Here be mpreg sex! If that's not your type of thing, then skip ahead. 
> 
> Also, Mr. Ackles's recent haircut makes a cameo. ;)

Dean stayed on the tail of Castiel’s BMW the whole way home, only breaking away when they turned into the driveway and pulled into their respective spots in the garage.  They hurried inside the house, Dean carrying the leftovers straight to the fridge and Castiel arranging his bouquet of roses on the table in the breakfast nook.  Dean was already half-hard when he came up behind Castiel, wrapping his arms around his middle and gently grinding against Castiel’s backside.

 

“You still wanna…?” he asked, trailing off when Castiel turned around and pulled him into a heavy, deep kiss, chasing the taste of the after-dinner peppermint in his mouth.

 

Castiel hummed an affirmative reply as he slid his hands up the back of Dean’s neck, feeling the short hairs that were still slightly bristly from his recent haircut.  He absolutely loved his husband with a fresh cut, loved the sharp clean line of his hair arching over his ears and edging along his freckled neck.  Dean’d left it a little longer on top than usual and styled it with a neat part on one side.  Castiel skimmed his fingers through the thick dark blond locks, mussing them up so that Dean looked less like the polished, serious detective he was by day and more like the boyishly handsome guy Castiel had fallen in love with.

 

“C’mon,” Dean breathed softly against his lips.

 

They headed upstairs, hand in hand, Dean gently tugging Castiel along.  At the landing, they paused, exchanging more kisses as they began to unbutton each other’s shirts.  Castiel backed Dean into the bedroom as he slipped his shirt off his shoulders.  He spread his fingers over the joints, digging his fingertips into his fair skin as he nibbled on Dean’s plump lower lip.

 

Dean slid his hands down Castiel’s arms before taking hold of the hem of his shirt, slowly baring his belly, and lifting it over his head.  They crashed back together, hungrier for each other than they were for dinner earlier.  Castiel cupped Dean’s face, his thumbs tenderly rubbing the bolt of his jaw. 

 

Just as Castiel was about to push Dean down onto the bed, Dean broke their kiss to kneel down in front of Castiel.  He ran his big hands over the swell of Castiel’s stomach, before unfastening Castiel’s pants, drawing them down his hips with his underwear. Castiel’s skin erupted in gooseflesh at Dean’s electrified touch.  Dean leaned in to press a line of kisses along the dark stripe that ran from under the outward jut of Castiel’s belly button down to his pubic bone.  His fingers deliberately trailed over each and every faint white mark growing along the stretched skin of Castiel’s abdomen.  Castiel threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair, purring at the rasp of Dean’s stubble against his delicate skin.

 

Dean dragged his lips down the underside of Castiel’s belly, his face disappearing from view under the prominent swell of their baby.  Castiel groaned as Dean took the head of his cock into his mouth, rubbing his tongue against his sensitive frenulum.  Dean’s hands slid around to his ass, kneading firmly as he pulled Castiel forward in a gentle rocking motion.

 

Castiel pushed at Dean’s head, trying to get his attention.  “Let me…”

 

Dean leaned back and smiled up at him, running a hand along the side of his stomach.  He shook his head.  “Not tonight.  Growing another person all on your own is hard work.  This is me, thanking you for what you’re doing for us.  Tonight’s all about you, babe.”

 

Castiel sighed, totally smitten all over again, as Dean slowly laid him out in the middle of the bed so he could cover every inch of his skin in slow caresses and sweet kisses.

 

At the first touch of Dean’s tongue against his swollen, overly sensitive left nipple, Castiel’s body seized up, his back arching sharply off the bed as come spurted thick and hot over the bottom of his stomach.

 

“Holy shit, Cas!” Dean exclaimed breathlessly, jerking back to watch his husband shutter and moan through his sudden, unexpected orgasm.

 

He was floating above the bed, not sure he was even on the planet anymore.  Everything faded away, his vision darkening at the edges.  Colors swirled behind his lids like some psychedelic acid trip when he closed his eyes.  When he finally started coming down from the high, he realized everything in his body was clenched tight, from his fingers griping the sheets to his toes curled up into his feet, from his teeth all the way down to his ass cheeks.  Relaxing was an exquisite pleasure that languidly rolled down the length of his body.  Strangely though, his groin still ached with a weird, unfulfilled need, like he’d been hard for hours without coming.  His erection was still raging even as the throbbing of his climax began to taper off.

 

“Hey, you…you umm,” Dean swallowed nervously, “you ok?”

 

“Fuuuuuck,” Castiel said on a long exhale as he reached down to stroke himself in an attempt to ease some of the ache.  “I think that was something far beyond just an orgasm.”

 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”  Dean chuckled, clearly relieved that he hadn’t completely broken Castiel, though Castiel was sure he’d cracked just a bit.  Dean moved to get off the bed, his own hard-on unashamedly hanging halfway out the open fly of his slacks, but Castiel grabbed hold of his wrist.

 

“Where are you going?” he whined.

 

Dean gestured towards the bathroom.  “Washcloth.”

 

“No, we’re not done,” Castiel declared pointing down at his still red, angry cock with his other hand.  He squeezed Dean’s wrist, imploringly.

 

One of the magical – seriously, that was the only word Castiel could come up with – benefits of pregnancy was his almost non-existent refraction period.  For the past few months, whenever they found time to be intimate with each other, Castiel wasn’t fully satiated until Dean had made him come at least twice, although this was the first time Dean had ever made him come solely from a single tiny kitten-lick to the nipple and none of his previous orgasms had ever been quiet so intense.

 

“Not sure I can top whatever the hell just happened,” Dean pointed out.

 

Castiel smiled up at him, tugging at his wrist to get him to come closer.  “No, but you’ll try.”

 

“Damn right I will.”  Dean grinned, lifting their hands so he could kiss Castiel’s knuckles before he shoved his own pants and underwear down to the floor.  His shoes thumped heavily against the closet as he kicked them off.  Thankfully, he wasn’t wearing his heavy boots, or they’d have to replace the door.

 

Castiel settled on his left side, putting a pillow under his belly and hiking up his right leg.  Dean slotted solidly against his back, pressing warm, wet kisses along his shoulders and up his neck.  Castiel tilted his head into the pillow as Dean laved the skin under his ear with his mouth, sucking the blood up to the surface in rosy bruises.  He rutted against the pillow, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his body lit up with pleasure.

 

Dean’s fingers were well lubed when they began to carefully massage his entrance.  His first orgasm had relaxed his muscles, but he was still too tight for anything more than a single finger, which Dean worked into him with excruciating care, pressing in slowly past his second knuckle where his finger was the widest.  He eagerly pushed his hips back against Dean’s hand, moaning when Dean’s fingertip just barely brushed over his prostate.  The second finger went in with very little resistance.  Dean spread his fingers apart, loosening the tight ring of Castiel’s entrance.  He was extra diligent in fully prepping Castiel to take his cock.

  
Castiel grabbed a fistful of the comforter when he felt Dean working his ring finger inside of him, opening him wider.  The feeling of _fullfullfull_ was magnificent and eased some of the lingering ache deep in his balls.

 

“How do you wanna do this?” Dean whispered with a kiss across Castiel’s shoulder.

 

There were very few positions that felt comfortable with a pregnant belly in the way.  Being mounted meant that Dean could get in deep and laying on his side with Dean spooned up behind him meant lazy, snuggly sex, but neither position let him see Dean.  That left only one way to go.

 

“I wanna ride you.”

 

Dean’s eyes darkened and he groaned his agreement, loving when Castiel set the pace for their lovemaking.  They changed positions on the bed, Dean reclining against the mound of pillows at the headboard while Castiel swung one leg over his knees and pressed his belly into the mattress briefly while he sucked down Dean’s cock.  Dean moaned when Castiel took him all the way to the base.  Castiel glanced up to see him grab hold of the headboard to keep from reaching out to tangle his fingers in Castiel’s hair and fuck up into his mouth.

 

Castiel reached for the lube from where it had been shoved under one of the pillows, uncapping the bottle and pouring a good amount into his palm.  He slicked up Dean’s length, stroking firmly downward with a twist of his wrist.  Dean’s hips twitched up into Castiel’s hand, dick drooling precome at the head.

 

Castiel shuffled up Dean’s thighs.  Dean reached out to help him move, hands starting at his elbows to help him balance, moving to his hips to pull him closer.  Castiel stood up tall on his knees, reaching between his legs to line up Dean’s cock.  He bit down on his lip when he felt the blunt head nudge against his swollen hole.  Dean held his hips steady as he laid his hands on Dean’s shoulders and began to lower himself.  His entrance flared out over the crown of Dean’s member before swallowing it.  Castiel stilled for a moment, savoring that first feel of Dean being inside him.  Slowly, inch by inch, he sank down until he was seated flush on Dean’s lap, his thickness spreading him wide.

 

Dean tipped his chin up as Castiel leaned forward for a kiss.  Their lips met softly and parted as they traded breath.  Castiel’s hips began a gentle back and forth grind as Dean’s fingertips dug into the meat of his buttocks. 

 

“God, you feel so good,” Dean moaned up into Castiel’s mouth as he gently coaxed him to start riding slowly up and down his length.  “Yeah, c’mon, baby…c’mon.  That’s…fuck…Cas…”

 

Castiel let go of Dean’s shoulders and arched back, pressing his palms into Dean’s knees.  His belly thrust forward as he started to ride Dean’s cock in earnest.  Dean met his motions with equal force, holding onto Castiel’s hips with an iron grip.

 

"Oh, Dean!  Oh, oh, oh!” he panted, throwing his head back.  Dean’s cockhead was sliding against his prostate with every thrust.  He could feel the coil of intense pressure winding up deep in his belly as they raced towards their climax.  Castiel sat up ramrod straight in Dean’s lap, slamming himself all the way down on Dean’s cock.

 

“Fuck!” Dean cried out, hips bucking up into Castiel as he came, shooting pulse after pulse of release into his channel.

 

Castiel sobbed, coming hard for a second time.  It wasn’t quite the existential event his first orgasm of the night had been, but it was still wonderful.  His dick throbbed in the sticky mess of his own spend where it was splattered between their stomachs.  He buried his face in the side of Dean’s neck, breathing hard into his skin. 

 

Dean stroked along his spine, easing the shuddery little aftershocks that continued to rock his body until his breathing returned to normal.  “You good?” he asked quietly, turning to nuzzle his face against Castiel’s.

 

“Mmhmm.”  He nodded, smiling against Dean’s neck.  “That was…”

 

“Awesome?” Dean supplied with a smirk.

 

“Yeah.  Awesome.” Castiel chuckled, sated and exhausted.  He lifted his head just enough to place tired kisses to the sweat damp skin between Dean’s neck and shoulder.  When he moved to sit back, he winced in discomfort.  His hips ached from being splayed open across Dean’s lap.

 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, brow furrowed in concern.

 

“Nothing, just sore,” he replied as he slowly lifted himself up with Dean’s help.  He flopped down onto his side of the bed and sighed as he sank into the mattress.

 

Dean rolled off the bed, heading for the bathroom.  Castiel’s eyes tracked his movements, appreciating play of his muscles under his bare skin as he walked.  That was one fine ass walking away from the bed, firm, curved, with deep dimples in his lower back.  And, just the sight of those naked bow legs made him shiver all over.  With a tilt of his head, he could watch Dean standing at the sink, soaking a couple of clean washcloths in steaming hot water.  He wiped himself down first, quick and perfunctory, before bringing the unused rag to the bed.

 

Castiel hummed happily at the first touch of the warm, damp cloth to his skin.  Dean dragged the washrag over his belly, scrubbing gently to wipe away the partially dried come, and then thoroughly washed between Castiel’s legs.  He was tender and so careful, and it made Castiel’s heart swell.

 

After tossing the cloth in the direction of the bathroom, Dean helped Castiel under the covers and then climbed in after him, drawing him close with his arms wrapped around him.

 

As if on cue the baby decided that her daddies had had enough _grown-up time_.  Castiel smiled wide, snapping out of his post-sex haze.  He grabbed Dean’s hand, pressing it firmly against the lower right-hand side of his stomach.

 

Dean furrowed a brow.  “What…?” 

 

Castiel had never before wished so badly that he had a camera than the moment Dean felt their daughter roll around in his belly for the very first time.

 

“Is that…?”

 

He grinned.  “Yeah.”

 

“Oh my god,” Dean breathed, stunned.  “Cas…I can feel her.”

 

Castiel rested his hand over Dean’s, helping him track the series of kicks and punches, twists and somersaults across the curve of his stomach.  Dean looked like a kid on Christmas morning, eyes wide with wonder as he stared down at their hands, as he felt the little flutters of movement that proved their little girl was alive and strong.

 

He looked up through his lashes and smiled at Castiel, leaning in for a long, deep kiss.  “God, I love you.  So much.  Both of you.” 

 

Castiel laughed when Dean pressed a soft kiss to the top of his belly and was rewarded with a swift kick to the mouth.  “We love you, too.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short, but very fluffy scenes.

It was the best kind of lazy Sunday afternoon.  The sky was slightly overcast and a drizzly rain kept the air at a cool, but humid, 68 degrees, almost chilly for mid June.  It was the kind of day where spending hours curled up on the couch doing absolutely nothing didn’t feel like a total waste.

 

Castiel and Dean were doing just that.  Castiel was sitting at one end of the couch, blanket covered legs stretched out on the ottoman, iPad propped on his belly as he played game after game of 2048.  Dean was sprawled over the length of the sofa with his head pillowed on Castiel’s thigh.  The side of his face pressed into Castiel’s stomach so he could feel the baby move, though she’d been quiet for the last half hour, lulled to sleep by their inactivity.  He had the laptop balanced on his lap, scrolling through /r/aww at Reddit, occasionally calling Castiel’s attention down to something cute and fluffy.

 

It had been a while since the last time Dean had shown him some random internet-person’s brand new puppy.  Castiel glanced over to see what had caught Dean’s attention.  His screen was split between BabyNames.com and an open Word document where he’d been copying and pasting names.  Castiel smiled as he reached over to rub along Dean’s chest.

 

“Find any you like?”  Castiel had given some thought to naming their little girl over the last couple of weeks, but hadn’t gone so far as to start a list yet.  He mainly pondered the names of the people they knew or patients from the clinic.  There were lots of names – too plain, too old fashioned, too weird – that he discarded almost immediately.  He knew what it was like to grow up with a weird name and immediately knew he wasn’t going to saddle his own daughter with a name that people would stumble over for her whole life.  

 

Dean shrugged.  “A few I guess.  It’s a really big decision, you know?  Whatever we name her, she’s kinda stuck with it for life.”

 

“Mhmm,” Castiel agreed.  “We could wait until she’s old enough to name herself.”

 

Dean canted his head to the side so he could give Castiel a raised brow.  “Hell no.  That’s some hippie dippy bullshit.  What if she wants to call herself something weird like _Table_ or _Pretty Pink Princess_?  Besides that, what would everybody call her in the meantime?  _Girl_?  _Hey You_?”

 

Castiel chuckled.  “Just a suggestion, though not one I was serious about at all.”

 

“Asshole,” Dean muttered affectionately, turning back to look at the list of names on his screen.

 

Castiel set his tablet down on the end table.  “What’s on your list so far?”

 

“I looked at the popular list of girl names.  I like Charlotte, Grace, Chloe, Stella, Adelaide, Madeline, Savannah, Isabelle, Zoe, Quinn, Emma, Hannah….”

 

“Wait, go back,” Castiel interrupted, pressing a hand to his belly.  The baby had woken up when they started talking.

 

“Which one?”

 

“Last five.  Read them out slowly.”

 

“Isabelle?”

 

Castiel waited for a moment before shaking his head.

 

“Zoe?”

 

“No.”

 

“Quinn?”

 

He shook his head again.

 

“Emma?”

 

She moved.  A very deliberate little jab at his belly button.

 

“Hannah?”

 

“Go back.”

 

“Emma?”

 

She moved again, somersaulting in a way that briefly changed the shape of his belly.  This time Dean must have felt her move because he tilted his head back a bit so he could put his lips directly on the t-shirt covering Castiel’s stomach.

 

“Emma?” he repeated, rumbling deeply against Castiel’s belly.

 

The baby punched him right in the nose, making him laugh.  “Well, I guess that solves that problem.  If she doesn’t like it, then it’s her own fault, right?”

 

Castiel smiled and said, “Emma.”

 

She turned again, almost as though she could hear that her name was being called from a different direction, and she was searching out the voice.  Castiel ran a hand down the side of his stomach and she followed the motion with a series of kicks.

 

“What about a middle name?” Castiel asked.

 

Dean shrugged, letting his attention be called away from the little game he was playing with their daughter, saying her name against Castiel’s belly and feeling her move against his face in response to his voice being so close.  “Did you have any ideas?”

 

“Maybe,” he replied carefully.  Dean looked up at him expectantly.  “I thought since Liam’s middle name is Robert and the new baby’s name is going to be Colton John, that maybe we should give her Mary as a middle name.”

 

Dean’s eyes closed as he pushed his face further into Castiel’s middle, nuzzling gently.

 

“We don’t have to,” he quickly offered.

 

“No, no,” Dean said looking up at him.  His green eyes flickered with something bittersweet before he smiled.  “I think…I think Mom would have liked that.  A lot.”

 

“What about you?  Do you like it?”  Castiel soothed his fingers through Dean’s hair.

 

“Yeah, I do.”  He kissed the side of Castiel’s belly and murmured, “Emma Mary Winchester.”

 

The baby performed a spectacular roll that nearly knocked the wind out of Castiel, but he laughed and pulled Dean up for a kiss of his own.  “Well, that’s been decided.  Now, what should we do about the nursery?”

 

*****

 

Being the mother of non-carrier sons (or non-carrier stepsons and a daughter who had no plans of popping out babies anytime soon) meant giving deference to the mother-in-law when it came to getting ready for grandchildren.  While Ellen got along famously with Jess and well enough with Jess’s mom, she knew better than to step on anybody’s toes by assuming that her advice or help was wanted before being asked for.  So, she was very surprised when Castiel called her up one Saturday morning and asked if she was free for a few hours to go shopping and have lunch.

 

Castiel picked her up and they headed out to Lawrence’s main shopping district where the Babies R Us, Target, and Costco sat on three corners of the same intersection and were flanked by nearly every other store known to mid-west America.  They made tentative plans for the baby shower that Ellen would share with the rest of the party planners, added more things to the registries Castiel had created months ago when Jess and Charlie dragged him to almost every store in town with a baby section, and filled up the BMW’s trunk with bags of baby stuff.  Castiel was keen to know Ellen’s opinion on everything from baby must-haves to whether this blanket was softer than that blanket. 

 

She was thrilled when he told her that they were planning to name their little girl after Dean’s mom.  It was a fitting tribute to one of the best moms she had ever known.  Mary Winchester had been her best friend growing up, and being able to see her sons bring their own children into the world helped ease some of the loss she still felt nearly three decades after Mary’s death.

 

For lunch Castiel took Ellen to her favorite sushi restaurant, which thankfully had teriyaki chicken on the menu since raw fish was definitely on the _Do Not Eat While Pregnant_ list.

 

“I feel like you’re buttering me up for something,” she said suspiciously after the waitress dropped off their drinks and took their order.

 

“Dean said I wouldn’t have to ask, but I didn’t want to presume.”  Castiel fidgeted with the napkin covering the few inches of his lap not taken up by his belly.  “Is it ok for Emma to call you grandma?”

 

“Oh, honey,” she said with a smile, reaching over to place her hand on Castiel’s knee.  “Of course, it’s ok.  I was planning to be just as much a grandma to her as I am to Sam’s boys, if that’s what you and Dean wanted.  I know I’m not blood related, but you gotta know by now that that ain’t important to this family.”

 

Castiel smiled.  “I know, and I’m glad.  I don’t want Emma to miss out on having a grandma just because my parents have decided to retire to Germany and probably won’t visit more than once every few years.  And, um…” he cleared his throat softly before continuing, “I’d like you to be there when she’s born, if you’re ok with that.”

 

Ellen was stunned.  The waitress brought out their food before she could reply.

 

“It’s ok, if you’re not,” he said in a rush.  “It’s just that we can have another person in the delivery room, and I thought it’d be nice if we had a mom there with us.  I’m sure Dean would appreciate the support, not that I wouldn’t, because I would.  Very much.  I’m not sure if Jess would be up to it.  Colton would only be about a month old by then…”

 

“Cas, it’s ok,” she said, interrupting his ramble with a soft smile as she held one hand to her heart.  “I’d be very honored to be there with you and Dean, especially since my only child seems to have no plans to give me any grandbabies.”

 

Castiel laughed.  “Jo runs away every time somebody asks if she wants to tag along for baby shopping.  I think she’s afraid she’ll catch pregnancy if she just walks in the Babies R Us.”

 

Ellen sighed.  “That girl doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body, I’m afraid.”

 

“She’s still got time to come around,” he reassured her.

 

“I ain’t holdin’ my breath.  At least I’ll have Miss Emma here and the boys to keep me young.”  She leaned closer, hand hesitantly hovering close to Castiel.  Smiling, he scooted his chair closer and guided her hand to where his belly started curving out from his ribs so she could feel the baby’s fluttery little kicks.  Ellen’s face softened, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.  “I’m so happy for you and Dean.”

 

“Thanks, Ellen.  You mean so much to both of us,” he said sincerely as he squeezed her hand.

 

She sniffled and laughed softly as she dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.  “Ok, ok.  Enough with the sappy stuff.  Let’s eat and you tell me more about this bee themed nursery you want.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally caught up to the stuff I originally wrote over a year ago. This upcoming four-chapter part is where this whole little universe started and has been through a lot of edits since that time. It was originally 11,592 words and 21 pages long in Word, but then I broke it up into chapters. Now it's 11,711 words split over four chapters.
> 
> WARNING: Things start to get messy in this chapter. If bodily fluids and functions squick you out, then I'm sorry (but not really..muwahahaha!).
> 
> Things get a little intense, a little angsty, and maybe a little sad, but everything will work out in the end. Dean and Cas always get a happy ending with me.

A sudden spasm in his lower back pulled Castiel from his nap in the recliner.  Rubbing bleary, sleep crusted eyes, he looked around the softly lit living room as the twinge subsided.  It was still early morning; the clock on the mantel read 7:48.  He vaguely remembered coming downstairs around four o’clock.  At least, he had managed to get a few hours of sleep. 

 

Thankfully today started a three-day break from work so he could go back to sleep without worrying about waking up at a certain time.  Over the last week, sleep had been elusive.  _Someone_ liked to do her best John Bonham impersonation in the middle of the night using his bladder as a drum kit.  He hadn’t felt good yesterday morning after an especially lousy night of tossing and turning trying to get comfortable, but he managed to muddle through his 8-hour shift at the clinic without sticking a tongue depressor up anybody’s butt or trying to listen to somebody’s lung sounds with an otoscope. 

 

Reaching down, he pulled the lever on the side of the chair, legs flopping down with the falling footrest.  He leaned forward awkwardly, his elbows not quite reaching his knees, and pulled his palms roughly over his face before threading his fingers up through his hair to give his scalp a satisfying scratch. 

 

He couldn’t remember if Dean had come home last night or not.  Actually, he couldn’t remember what day it was.  Tuesday, maybe?  Late pregnancy induced brain fog really sucked.

 

Castiel carefully pushed himself up to stand.  He still wasn’t used to the shift in his center of gravity caused by his ever growing belly and found himself easily unbalanced if he didn’t take the time to firmly plant himself flat on his feet before taking his first step forward.  He stretched, arms high over his head, arching his back and pushing out his swollen abdomen.  He groaned in satisfaction as his spine popped, some of the tension in his back releasing with the motion.  The recliner had become the most comfortable place to sleep, cradling his body in just the right ways, but he always ached if he spent too much time in the chair without moving.

 

“Well, baby girl.  Let’s go find breakfast.”  Castiel patted his belly as he headed into the bright sunny kitchen.  It wasn’t very often that he got to really enjoy their southeastern facing kitchen during the morning hours.  On work days he was up and out of the house before the sun was up high enough to shine into their backyard, and on his days off he slept until late morning.  The room was aglow with brilliant morning sunlight that bounced off the white cabinets and stainless steel appliances.  The smooth, spotless dark granite countertops reflected squares of light from the windows and French doors leading out onto the deck.

 

His eyes fell on the empty coffeemaker sitting next to the toaster on the counter.  He desperately missed coffee.  Pam had reassured him that he’d be able to start drinking it again after the baby was born, but cautioned him that he’d still have to watch his intake if he was planning to nurse.  He had tried decaf for exactly three days before giving up.  It just wasn’t worth the effort.  He stuck to water, fruit juice, and the occasional cup of green tea when he wanted something hot, but nothing could take the place of a big mug of dark, rich, bitter coffee first thing in the morning – or any other time of the day, really.

 

He pulled out the orange juice, drinking straight from the container as he eyed the contents of the fridge.   He was usually hungry after waking up, but everything he set his eyes on turned him off, even the container of leftover macaroni and cheese, his longest lasting craving.  He’d eaten cheap, store brand mac and cheese at least four times a week for the past two months.  If Dean thought it was weird, then he was a wise man, keeping his mouth shut and the pantry stocked.   After having such a hard time gaining weight early in the pregnancy, Dean had been willing to do anything to make sure Castiel ate.

 

Castiel was so deep in thought about the lack of anything to tempt his appetite that he jumped slightly when warm arms wrapped around his middle from behind.  Dean pressed a kiss under his ear, his big hands wandering over Castiel’s rounded stomach.

 

“Didn’t mean to spook you.  Been up long?”  Dean rested his chin against Castiel’s shoulder.

 

Castiel inhaled deeply.  Dean smelled like their bed and toothpaste.  He leaned back into Dean’s chest and shook his head as he finished off the last of the juice, setting the empty carton on the nearest counter.  “I came downstairs in the middle of the night and just woke up in the recliner a few minutes ago.”

 

“Feeling ok?”  Dean reached out to close the fridge door.

 

Castiel gave him a little shrug before Dean turned him around slowly to put the baby bump between them.  Concerned green eyes studied him carefully.  Dean’s hands settled on Castiel’s hips, thumbs stroking little circles against the bare skin exposed by the gap between the waistband of his pajama pants and the hem of his slightly too short t-shirt.

 

“Did she keep you awake last night?”

 

“No, she didn’t move much, so I got a few hours of sleep.”  He smiled up at his husband, licking his thumb before brushing away a smear of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth.  Another spasm in his back caused him to grimace in discomfort.  He pushed his fingertips into the spot in an attempt to relieve the pressure.  “Sleeping in the recliner for more than an hour isn’t a good idea.”

 

Dean pulled him close and began to gently knead the offending muscle.  Castiel melted against him, nudging his face into the side of Dean’s neck while his hands worked magic into his aching back.  “Go up to bed and I’ll bring you breakfast.”

 

Castiel nodded as he reluctantly stepped away from Dean’s wonderful hands and waddled towards the stairs.  His hips ached with each step.  Castiel stood at the foot of the stairs with one hand on the bannister and one foot up on the first step, looking up towards the second floor landing.  The staircase stretched out infinitely ahead of him.  Despite how badly he wanted to collapse in their big bed, he could not convince his body to move forward.  Instead, he found himself heading back into the kitchen.

 

Dean glanced up at him with a puzzled look as he rounded the corner.  “This isn’t the bedroom, babe.”

 

“Hips hurt too bad to try the stairs right now.”  Castiel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surface of the island with his shoulders hunched up next to his ears.  He let gravity pull the weight of his stomach down towards the floor and arched his back.  The position was a little awkward, but for the moment his hips weren’t bearing the load of his pregnant belly and the baby wasn’t lying on his bladder.  Humming in contentment, he reached down to press his hand over his navel, feeling the baby twist and wiggle as she adjusted to how he was standing.

 

“Bacon and eggs or pancakes?”  Dean asked as he started rummaging through the cabinets for breakfast supplies.

 

Castiel rocked his hips from side to side.  The motion seemed to make the soreness more bearable than just standing still.  Usually moving around for a while made the aches and pains from being still for too long go away, but now, his discomfort was only increasing the longer he was awake.  He crossed his forearms together on the counter and rested his forehead on top of them.  “Not hungry.”

 

“Mr. Eats-morning-noon-and-night-now isn’t hungry?” Dean teased.

 

“Thirsty, but not hungry.”  Castiel listened to Dean moving on the other side of the island.  He focused on the sounds in the hopes that the distraction would take his mind off his uncomfortable body.  Bacon sizzled in a pan on the stovetop.  The refrigerator door opened and closed.  Ice from the dispenser clattered into a glass.  The cap popped off of a bottle.  Liquid sloshed into a glass before the glass was set down on the counter by his arm with a dull thud.  He stood up, taking the drink and draining it empty in a few gulps.

 

Dean watched him with an amused smirk as he refilled the glass.  “Want me to leave the bottle?”

 

Shaking his head, Castiel drank half of the juice before he dropped back down into his modified downward-facing dog pose against the kitchen island, trying to relax while Dean made breakfast.  His back continued its annoyingly uncomfortable, but not quite painful, spasms.  He leaned far to the right for a few seconds and then reversed his position to the left to stretch out his sides.  With a sigh, he slowly stood up straight and walked into the living room to see if lying on the couch would help.

 

He wrestled with the throw pillows until every aching part of his body was supported.  The twinge in his back didn’t seem to be going away no matter what he did, but it wasn’t overly painful, so he could ignore it.  He turned on the _Today Show_ and drifted into a tired semiconscious doze while Matt, Savannah, and Al tittered back and forth.  He was annoyed that his day off was going to be spent lying miserably on the couch fighting to get comfortable. 

 

Castiel tried to put together a mental list of the things that needed to be done over the next month and a half.  There was still a lot to do.  Dean and Sam had moved the furniture out of the guest room across the hall from the master bedroom last week.   The room was mostly empty except for the big armoire that they decided to leave in the room instead of lugging downstairs to the basement.  There was a growing pile of baby stuff spilling out of the closet.  The pile was going to get even bigger after the baby shower at the beginning of August.  The crib and changing table were still in their flat-pack boxes.  Dean was planning to get them put together and paint the walls when he had a few days off next weekend.  Charlie and Gilda had offered to help paint.  They’d just repainted their house and said there was no reason for Castiel and Dean to have to buy new brushes and rollers when they could just use their leftover stuff.

 

That’s as far as he got with his to-do list before his attention drifted away, flitting between the TV and the sounds of Dean in the kitchen.  Under the sound of the local weather, he realized he could hear Dean on the phone with someone.

 

“…stay home today.”  Pause.  “Yeah, everything’s fine.  I dunno…I just don’t want to leave him home alone today.”  Pause.  “He keeps zoning out.”  Pause.  “Nah.  Can’t be that.  He’s probably just tired.  Hasn’t had a full night sleep in several days.”  Pause.  “I want to keep an eye on him.  I’ve got some reports I can work on from here.  I’ll be in tomorrow.”  Pause.  “Thanks, Benny.”

 

Castiel heard the rustle of leather as Dean settled into the recliner, heard the soft tink and scrape of Dean’s fork against his plate as he ate.  Savannah told a really bad joke at Matt’s expense and Lauer retorted with a snarky remark.  As usual, the crowd on the plaza was too loud to hear Al’s weather report before the show cut to commercial, but it didn't matter – Kansas in late July was always hot with a chance of tornadoes.  Castiel felt a lightweight fleece blanket fall over him just as he slipped under the soothing pull of sleep before the show came back from the break.

 

When he woke up again, Hoda and Kathy Lee were being their usual half-drunk selves during the _Today Show's_ fourth hour and something was pressing insistently against his very full bladder.  Castiel quickly excavated himself from the mound of pillows on the couch and shot up to his feet, momentarily forgetting his balance issues.  He stumbled, ramming his little toe of his right foot into the leg of the coffee table.  “Ow, dammit!” he cursed as he sat back down to keep from falling over.  He grabbed the toe trying to rub out the initial jolt of pain.

 

“You ok?”  Dean called from the kitchen where he had his laptop and a few manila folders spread out on the table.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied with an aggrieved sigh.  Castiel stood again, this time much slower, and hobbled to the bathroom as quickly as his throbbing toe would let him.  Closing the door, he tugged his pants down and sat.  He hadn’t stood up to pee in weeks; a pregnant belly made aiming very difficult.  He groaned in relief, both from the release of pressure on his bladder and from the release of pressure on his lower back. 

 

Surprisingly, the toilet seemed to be the best seat in the house; his lower body didn’t hurt.  He inhaled deeply, enjoying the lack of discomfort for as long as possible.  Castiel flipped the hem of his shirt up over the top of his stretchmark-lined abdomen.   The baby had been pretty quiet over the last few hours.  She was still moving, her cramped quarters made every little motion noticeable now, but she wasn’t nearly as active as normal.  He ran a hand down the middle of his stomach, pressing his fingertips firmly over the little lump jutting out next to his belly button.  The bump pushed back and Castiel could just make out the faint indentation of tiny little toes underneath the tight skin.  A tired grin turned up the corners of his mouth.  His baby girl could already put a smile on his face when he wasn’t feeling great.

 

As much as he’d like to stay and enjoy the comfort of sitting on the toilet, the only reading material within reach was the label on the air freshener can.  He knew if he stayed too long without something to keep him occupied, he’d fall asleep, and he’d learned the hard way during his sophomore year of college that falling asleep on the toilet was a very, very bad thing.  Ultimately, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort of getting Dean to bring him his phone just to have something to do and he didn’t want to risk his legs going numb from a prolonged stay.  Sighing, he finished up and left the bathroom.

 

As he limped towards the kitchen, he heard soft pop.  He paused and frowned softly. 

 

Dean looked up from his work.  “Something wrong?”

 

"I heard a pop."  He glanced around the room, tilting his head trying to chase down where the sound came from.  It had sounded very close by, close enough that he swore he felt it.  But nothing in his immediate vicinity looked like it could have made the noise.

 

Dean mirrored him in scanning the room before shaking his head.  “I didn’t hear anything.”

 

“Must have been something on the TV.”  Castiel walked over to the fridge, pulling it open and staring inside for lack of anything better to do.  As usual, nothing new had magically appeared since the last time he looked.  Closing the door after a couple of minutes, he took a step back and stepped into a puddle.

 

With a sigh, he started to tell Dean that the ice dispenser had leaked again when he noticed that the liquid had a pinkish yellow tint.  Only then did he feel something trickling down his legs and notice the inside of his pants darkening.  His back seized up again, this time much stronger than before, and there was a gush of wet between his legs.  Leaning forward with a hand against the fridge, he couldn’t help the little grunt that was punched out of his chest as pain wrapped around his middle.  Castiel’s heart dropped as he pressed his other hand firmly under his belly and felt the tension pulling his abdomen tight.

 

“You ok?” Dean was starting to sound like a broken record and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was now most certainly _not_ ok, Castiel might have snapped at him.

 

“No,” he replied with a groan of frustration when the pain released him enough to stand up straight again.  He shuffled into the laundry room where a basket of clean, folded towels sat on top of the dryer.  For once, he was glad Dean had forgotten to take them upstairs.  Castiel grabbed a towel and gingerly walked back into the kitchen.  He saw Dean heading towards the fridge and made a motion with the towel.  “Don’t step in it.”

 

“I just fixed that son of a bitch," Dean said, noticing the puddle.

 

Castiel dropped the towel and pushed it around the floor in front of the fridge with his bare foot.  He sighed and gestured to wet spot blooming on his pants.  In a surprisingly composed voice, he said, “My water broke.”

 

Dean just stared at Castiel while he continued to calmly nudge the towel around with his big toe.  “What…?”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes with a sigh.  “The sac that surrounds the child in my womb has burst open releasing its fluid all over the kitchen floor.”

 

Dean's mouth opened and closed several times as he looked down to the towel on the floor and then back up to Castiel.  “But it’s too early.”

 

“Thank you for that insightful observation. Guess the back spasms I've been having all morning were actually contractions.”  Castiel groaned and leaned forward over the edge of the kitchen island again as pain spread through his lower back and pelvis.

 

“It’s too early,” Dean repeated urgently as he hovered fretfully at Castiel’s side.  The cop, who was routinely put in dangerous, life-threatening situations that required a level head and quick action, was at a complete loss when faced with the impending birth of his child.

 

Thankfully, Castiel’s mind switched over to emergency mode even as the contraction built in strength.  There were things to do and plans to implement.  The situation called for composure and concentration.  When the pain waned, he pulled out one of the stools tucked under the island counter and sat down. “Get the phones.  I’ll call Pam.  You call Sam and Jess.  Then go get dressed and pack a bag.  Sweats, t-shirts, toothbrush, that sort of thing.”

 

With his orders given, Dean took off to the living room to retrieve their cellphones.  He tossed Castiel’s phone to him before dashing upstairs with his own phone pressed to his ear.  Castiel scrolled through his contacts debating whether he should call the hospital or Pam first, and finally deciding on the latter. 

 

“Hey!  It’s my favorite doctor-patient.  What can I do for you this morning?” she answered with an audible grin.

 

“Uh…” he faltered for second as what was happening finally hit him.  “My water broke.”

 

He could almost hear the smile disappear on the other end of the line.  “Are you positive it’s not just a leaky bladder?  If she’s using it as a pillow, you might be having some incontinence issues.”

 

“It’s not urine,” he said with absolute certainty.

 

“Are you contracting?”  Her tone grew more serious.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How long?”

 

“Maybe four hours.  They weren’t painful to begin with.  I thought it was just a backache.”  Another wave of pain started to crest and he curled into his belly to ride out the contraction.

 

“Are you having a contraction right now?”

 

He hummed an affirmative response, unable to speak.

 

“Ok.  I’ll time it for you.  Let me know when it’s done.”

 

Long moments ticked away before Castiel blew out a breath and relaxed.  “Done.”

 

“That was just under a minute.  How far apart are they?”

 

“About five minutes.”

 

“I'll meet you at the hospital,” she said gravely.  “Tell Dean to drive safely.”

 

“Ok.  See you soon.”  He set the phone aside and slid his hands down to palpate his belly, trying to determine how the baby was oriented before the next contraction began.  She was head down, with her body pointing towards his spine and her right shoulder up, the perfect position for delivery. 

 

Terror clutched at his chest.  Things were progressing too fast.  He knew that babies born at 34 weeks gestation had a good chance at developing just as normally as babies born full-term at 40 weeks.  But, he couldn’t reconcile the fact that it was only the end of July and his due date was September 4, six weeks away. 

 

Distraught, he ran a hand over his hardening belly silently begging his body to stop contracting, to keep the baby safe inside for another month, to let her lungs mature, to let her grow for a little while longer.  He groaned as the contraction strengthened.

 

When the world outside his body came back into focus, Dean was by his side, running his hand up and down his spine.  His husband's voice was comforting as the pain eased away.  “Couldn’t get hold of Sam so I left him a message.  I have dry pants for you.  Need help?”

 

He nodded.  Dean’s hands were quick, but gentle as he helped Castiel stand and worked the soaked underwear and pajama pants down his legs. 

 

“Wait,” Castiel said holding his hand to Dean’s shoulder.  Before Dean could hold out the sweatpants for him to put his feet in, he felt a sudden uncomfortable pressure in his bottom and hurried around the corner to the bathroom.  He heard Dean’s phone ring as he sat down on the toilet again.  The heaviness deep in his pelvis eased marginally.

 

“Hey, Sammy."  Pause.  "Yeah.  We’re heading to the hospital.  Haven’t left the house yet though.” 

 

Castiel leaned forward wrapping his arms protectively around his belly.  He could feel the muscles of his abdomen tensing as the next contraction began.  His hands clinched tightly into fists, nails digging into his palms.  The force of the pain intensified and he suddenly felt the urge to push.  "No, no, no," he panted softly.

 

He reached down between his thighs and felt his perineum bulging as the contraction pushed the baby's head further down in his birth canal.  The pads of his fingers touched the baby's scalp just before it eased back inside his body when the contraction ended. 

 

They were out of time. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Things get gross here.

Panicked, Castiel called out, "Dean!  She's coming!"

 

"Gotta go.  Baby’s coming right now," Dean told Sam over the phone as he nudged the door open and saw Castiel move from the toilet to his knees on the floor.  He dropped the phone and crouched down cupping Castiel’s face in his hands.  "Tell me what you need."

 

"Towels.  Get the towels from the laundry room."  Castiel panted heavily trying to delay the inevitable while Dean ran out of the bathroom.  Their daughter was coming whether they were ready or not.  As soon as Dean came back with the hamper of clean linen, Castiel grabbed hold of the sink counter with one hand and the towel bar on the opposite wall with the other.  He shifted into a very low squat, balancing on the balls of his feet, to spread his hips wider.

 

Dean knelt in front of Castiel, hastily unfolding two towels and spreading them out between Castiel’s feet.  "I got to deliver the dummy baby in training at the academy," he said with a nervous laugh.

 

Castiel puffed out a breath between pants.  "This will be much messier.”

 

The fear and worry in their eyes was undisguised as they looked at each other.  They were both on the wrong side of an emergency situation, terrified about what might happen in the next few minutes.  This was their worst nightmare come true. 

 

Dean reached out, gently palming Castiel's flushed cheek.  He inhaled deeply, calming himself for Castiel's sake.  "We can do this."

 

Castiel nodded, but his response was cut off as the next contraction ripped through his body.  He bore down hard.  Pushing hurt, but felt strangely good at the same time.  The baby’s head didn't draw back up when the contraction ended.

 

“That’s good, Cas,” Dean encouraged, stroking his husband’s bare knees.

 

Castiel guided one of Dean’s hands between his legs to cup under the baby's head and offer counter pressure to his pushing.  He panted trying not to push, to allow his body time to stretch, but he couldn't; his body was forcing the baby out fast and without his active participation.  Pain burned white hot as he pushed, his flesh tearing jaggedly around the widest part of her head.  He cried out in agony before whimpering, “Hurts.”

 

“I know it does, baby, but you’re doing so good.”  Dean grabbed a towel wiping away as much of the birth fluids and blood from the crown of the baby’s head as possible.  “C’mon.  The hard part’s almost over.”

 

Castiel huffed out a shaky breath before bearing down again.  His arms and legs trembled from exertion.  He felt the wrinkles of the baby’s forehead pass, followed by the soft bump of her ears and the ridge of her nose.  There was momentary relief when her chin popped out. 

 

"There you go!  Her head's out, Cas!" Dean exclaimed.  He gently held his daughter's head in one hand as he slid the index finger of his other hand around her neck checking for the umbilical cord; thankfully, she hadn’t tied herself up in it. 

 

There was a short lull in the contractions after her head was delivered.  Castiel’s head fell back between his shoulders, chest heaving as though he’d just run up a mile-long hill.  His tired, trembling legs couldn’t hold his weight in a squatting position any longer.  He let go of the counter and towel bar and awkwardly lowered himself down onto his back. 

 

With his free hand, Dean grabbed a clean wash cloth from the basket, soaking it in cool water from the sink.  Murmuring soft words of praise and reassurance, he bathed Castiel’s sweaty face and neck gently as he rested.  “You’re doing so good, Cas.  It’s almost over.”

 

Castiel scrambled to grab behind his knees and curl his chin into his chest as the next contraction started.  Dean cupped both hands around the baby’s head, guiding it as her body slowly rotated.  Her right shoulder and arm slipped out followed by the left.  With one final wet, gory surge, her torso, bottom, and legs slid out.  Panting raggedly, Castiel let go of his shaky legs and fell back, flat against the floor. 

 

For several stunned, silent heartbeats nothing happened. 

 

Castiel lifted his head to look down where Dean was kneeling between his legs before shifting up onto his elbows to get a better look.  Dean was staring down at the small, bloody infant cradled gently in his hands.  She was pale, almost blue, and motionless.

 

"Shit, Cas!  She's not breathing." 

 

Dean flipped the baby onto her stomach and roughly rubbed her back with the clean corner of a soiled towel.  Her arms and legs dangled ragdoll-limp on either side of Dean’s forearm. 

 

Pushing himself up to sit propped against the sink cabinet, Castiel watched with wide eyes as Dean attempted to rouse their daughter.  Panic clawed at his insides.  It was too early.  She was too little.  Her lungs weren’t ready to work on their own.  Fear wrapped around his chest making it hard to breathe.  He reached out brushing the tips of his fingers along the heel of her foot, terrified that the little girl he’d felt move inside him only an hour earlier would never move again.

 

When she didn't respond to his coaxing, Dean turned her back over and leaned down to cover her nose and mouth with his mouth.  Gently he sucked out the birth fluids to help clear her airways before puffing a couple of soft, short rescue breaths to kick start her lungs.  Suddenly, her whole body jerked violently and she let out a weak mewl. 

 

"Hey, Emma.  Hey, baby.  Good girl.  C'mon, keep breathing."  Dean pulled a clean towel from the basket and gently rubbed her all over, cleaning and continuing to stimulate her.  As her cries got stronger and louder, she turned a healthy shade of pink.  Once he was sure she was going to keep breathing, he bundled her up in a towel.  Grinning brightly with unshed tears heavy on his lashes, he scooted closer to Castiel, passing the baby to him.  "Look at her, Cas.  She's so tiny."

 

Relief washed over Castiel.  He was too overcome to say anything, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as gathered Emma close to his bare belly.  The cord was short, not allowing him to hold her much higher.  Dean covered them both with several big, clean towels to help keep them warm.

 

With the baby finally safely tucked in into his arms, Castiel found that he couldn't take his eyes off her.  She had a head full of dark hair.  Her plump lower lip, a sure sign that she was Dean's daughter, poked out in a displeased pout and her brow furrowed crossly as she slowly adjusted to being out of her father's warm womb.  With her knees drawn up against her stomach, she fit perfectly between Castiel’s elbow and hand.  Her angry cries had quieted to soft whimpers, but she was still breathing, still beautifully pink.

 

The euphoria that Emma was alive and breathing on her own was quickly replaced with distress when the world shifted suddenly before Castiel's eyes.  Glancing down, he saw that towels between his legs were soaked in bright red blood.  Not good.  Suddenly, the baby wasn't their main concern anymore.  Castiel’s heart pounded violently in his chest as sweat poured down his pale face.  He swayed to the side, on the verge of passing out. 

 

"Whoa, whoa!"  Dean’s smile vanished as his hands shot out to steady Castiel and the baby.  He one-handedly grabbed the rest of the towels and washcloths from the basket, packing them firmly between Castiel’s legs attempting to staunch the bleeding, but Castiel grew paler by the second.

 

The front door opened. "You guys still here?"

 

"Sam!" Dean called in reply as he guided Castiel down to lie flat on the cramped floor of the half-bath.  "Call 911, we need an ambulance.  Emma's here, but Cas isn't doing so great."

 

"I'll be fine," Castiel protested quietly, trying to ease Dean's worry.  The amount of bleeding was very concerning.  A tear, even a bad one, wouldn't bleed quite this badly.  He was tired, so tired, and cold.  Shivering, he clutched Emma close having to concentrate hard on not letting her go.  Though the baby didn't seem to weigh much more than a sack of flour, she got heavier and heavier as the strength drained out of his arms.

 

Sam stood in the hallway by the bathroom door and they could hear him talking to the dispatcher.

 

Castiel licked his dry lips, pulling himself together long enough to focus on Dean.  "When we're separated at the hospital, stay with her.  She’ll need you more than I do.”

 

Dean wiped the sweat from Castiel’s face with the wet washcloth.  His green eyes were bright with anxiety.  "You'll be ok, Cas.  You'll both be ok."

 

Sam knocked on the partially open door once he finished the call to emergency services. "You guys need anything?"

 

"Yeah, grab a blanket from the hall closet," Dean replied as he pushed Castiel's sweaty bangs off of his forehead.

 

Castiel shook uncontrollably even after Dean wrapped him up in the heavy quilt Sam that passed through the door.  He fought to stay conscious as Dean gave Sam the play by play of Emma’s unexpected delivery.  Sam mentioned that he noticed neither car had left the driveway after returning Dean's call earlier and decided to come over to check on them.

 

After what felt like an eternity, the paramedics arrived bringing in a stretcher loaded with their gear.  One EMT took Castiel's vital signs and started an IV.  There was no pain when the cord was severed, but Castiel certainly felt the loss when the other EMT picked the baby up and took her out of the bathroom to assess her condition.  A few minutes later, Castiel was strapped onto the stretcher and wheeled out to the ambulance.  Dean followed, cradling tightly swaddled Emma close to his chest.  Sam assured his brother that he'd meet them at the hospital after he checked in with Jess who was waiting for an update at home with Liam.  Dean rode up front where the driver turned on the heater in the truck's cabin to keep the baby warm despite the near 90-degree summer heat outside.

 

The ride to the hospital was quick, lights and sirens flashing the whole way.  Balthazar, Pam, and Meg met them at the door to the ambulance bay, ready to receive the report from the paramedics.

 

"34-year-old male.  Suspected postpartum hemorrhage.  The placenta has not been delivered.  BP 90 over 60.  Pulse 115. Respiratory rate 30.  34-week gestation neonate, spontaneous delivery at home an hour ago.  Apgar score 7 on paramedic arrival.  Pulse 138.  Respiratory rate 45."  One of the medics called out vital signs as they rushed towards the closest trauma room to get Castiel and the baby stabilized.

 

It was very surreal to be the one on the stretcher looking up at the familiar faces of his colleagues.  Their game faces were impressive and slightly scary from his current position.  Castiel had never truly appreciated the efficiency of the controlled chaos of his emergency department before this moment.  Within 90 seconds, he was hooked up to a monitor, a blood pressure cuff, a pulse oximeter, another IV, and had an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.  Ruby held an IV bag in her hand, squeezing it tightly to force the fluid as fast as possible through the large bore needle at the inside of his right elbow.  The fast paced activity was unnerving.

 

“C’mon, Clarence.  Stay with us,” Meg said roughly rubbing her knuckles against his sternum.  He grimaced at the painful stimulation that brought the loud ER back into sharp focus.

 

Castiel didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he opened them to the brightness of the trauma bay. He turned his head to see Dean standing next to the stretcher where their daughter was being assessed by the NICU team.  Emma's tiny fingers were wrapped around Dean's index finger as he stroked the back of her delicate, pink hand with his thumb, and she was wailing unhappily.  Dean looked on with apprehension as their daughter was checked out.  He lifted his gaze, settling on Castiel, their eyes meeting briefly before someone in scrubs shifted, blocking their view of each other.

 

Conversation rushed around him in a drone of noise that his foggy brain couldn't keep up with.  He thought he heard Pam and Balthazar arguing over _fundal massage_ and _oxytocin_ , but he couldn't focus clearly on the words to understand their meaning.  Someone pressed down firmly on his lower abdomen, massaging in a way that was anything but pleasant.  Closing his eyes again, he groaned at the discomfort. 

 

Meg grabbed his hand.  “You can keep your eyes closed, but squeeze my hand so I know you’re still with me, ok?”

 

Castiel did as told, grasping Meg’s hand weakly.  The intense pain of labor had passed, but his whole body buzzed with a hazy feeling of _not right_.  Long minutes passed as the team worked through several methods trying to stop the bleeding before he felt a hand gently squeezing his shoulder.  When he opened his eyes again, Dean's face was hovering directly over him, fingers reaching out to card through his hair.  His husband leaned in close to his ear.

 

"They want to admit Emma to the NICU for observation, but she's fine, Cas.  She'll be ok."  The din of the room faded away as Castiel concentrated on the calming sound of Dean’s voice. 

 

Their little girl was ok.  She was alive and she was ok.  He smiled faintly up at Dean.  On a raspy whisper, he said, "Go with her."

 

"I will, in a minute."  He kissed Castiel's forehead tenderly.  "Cas, they can’t get the bleeding under control so Pam says you're going up for surgery.”  Dean sighed, his breath cool against Castiel’s damp skin.  “Looks like Emma's gonna be an only child."

 

Castiel frowned, his breath hitching in his chest.  His ability to carry a child had been nothing more than a nuisance for most of his life, until he found Dean and they decided to start a family.  To have that taken away from them now was devastating.  His chest twisted and burned forcing up a heartbroken sob that fogged up the inside of the oxygen mask.  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut to block out the sympathetic gazes of his co-workers.

 

"It's ok, angel.  It's ok."  Dean thumbed away the tears that trailed down Castiel's temples into his hairline.  “We’ve got our baby girl.  It’s ok.”

 

Balthazar interrupted gently.  "Dean, the OR's ready for us.  We have to go."

 

"Alright." He nodded, pressing his lips to Castiel's forehead again.  "Me and Emma are gonna go have some father-daughter time and I’ll see you when you wake up, ok?"

 

Castiel nodded, opening his eyes again to look up at Dean.

 

"I love you,” Dean said reaching down to firmly squeeze Castiel’s hand.  His long lashes were wet with tears.

 

Castiel curled his ring and middle fingers into his palm to form the sign for _I love you_ , unable to say anything over the hard, immoveable lump in his throat.  The stretcher began to move and his hand was gently placed by his hip before the bed’s rails were snapped up into place.  Pam and a half dozen members of the ED team rushed him to the elevator at the end of the hall.  All of them argued over who was going to scrub in with the OR team, but Balthazar and Meg called seniority and sent the rest of the nurses and residents back to cover the department in their absence.

 

The two doctors and nurse continued to monitor the lines, tubes, and IV bags attached to Castiel during the elevator ride.  Pam explained to him what was going to happen in the operating room though he hardly paid her any attention.  A sluggish litany of words echoed through his mind – _Emma’s ok…Emma’s ok…Emma’s ok…_

 

He was wheeled into the sterile glare of the operating suite.  Masked and gowned people moved around in a perfectly choreographed ballet of doctors, nurses, and equipment.  Castiel heard voices he thought he recognized, but couldn't see any faces to put names to.  A team of hands lifted and dragged him onto the operating table.  Someone stretched his left arm out and he felt the prick of yet another needle.  Within seconds his eyelids were too heavy to keep open anymore.  He heard Pam call the time-out just as he slipped under the effects of the anesthesia coursing through his veins.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean anxiously paced in the hallway outside the NICU’s small waiting room.  Half an hour ago, Emma had been taken back to be observed more closely in the NICU and Castiel had been whisked off to the OR for an emergency hysterectomy.  He had yet to receive an update on his daughter or his husband.  Neither of them was completely out of the woods yet.  His restlessness grew as the minutes ticked by.  He ran a shaky hand through his hair and chewed roughly on the inside of his bottom lip. 

 

The threat of losing his husband, his newborn, or both of them was still a very real possibility.  He couldn't lose them.  Cas had endured a hard pregnancy and a difficult delivery, and Dean couldn't help but feel guilty that he had suffered so much all because Dean wanted a family.  He was on the verge of a meltdown when the elevator down the hall dinged. 

 

Sam quickly walked out into the hallway, glancing around eagerly for his brother.  “Dean!”

 

“Sammy!”  The relief at seeing his brother was overwhelming.  He wasn’t alone anymore.  Dean sagged against the wall for support until he felt Sam’s hands grab his shoulders.

 

“How are Cas and Emma?”  Sam hauled Dean into the blessedly empty waiting room.

 

Dean collapsed onto a sofa.  It was only then that he realized he was covered in a mix of sticky sweat, dried blood, and amniotic fluid.  If the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d probably make a joke that he looked like he’d murdered somebody.  Instead, he silently stared down at his empty, stained hands.  He had caught his daughter, had been the first person to hold her.  He had breathed the first breath into her lungs.  He had kept her warm and protected on the ride to the hospital and held her close until he had to put her down on the stretcher in the ER.  Then she had been taken away from him.  Dean's breath caught in his throat.

 

Sam squeezed his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. Dean’s voice was thick when he finally answered. “Emma’s ok, as ok as preemie can be, I guess.  Cas is in surgery.  They couldn’t get the bleeding to stop.  How’s Jess?”

 

“Upset that she couldn’t come,” Sam replied with his hand still resting on his brother’s shoulder, grounding him and giving him as much reassurance as he possibly could.  Jess was ready to pop any day now and had taken the past week off from work.  “She’s been having irregular contractions since last night.”

 

“You didn’t leave her alone, did you?”

 

“No.  Linda came over to stay with her until her mom gets here.  Susan’s been ready for the past month to drop everything and drive to Lawrence at a moment’s notice.”

 

“I didn't mean to take you away from Jess.”

 

“Hey.  You’re not.”  Sam squeezed his shoulder again, giving him a little shake.  “Jess pretty much pushed me out the door and I can get home fast enough from here if she needs me.  I called Benny and he said he’d relay the message to Victor and Jody.  Gabriel said he’d call their parents and brothers, then he and Kali would catch the first available flight out of L.A.  Ellen’s going to get hold of everybody else and then she and Bobby are heading over.”

 

“Thanks, Sammy.”  Dean propped his elbows against his knees, holding his head in his hands. 

 

“Mr. Winchester?”

 

Both brothers looked up at the dark-haired nurse who appeared in the doorway.  She gave them both a smile and held out a set of faded blue scrubs to Dean.  “I thought you might want to get cleaned up a bit before you go in to see your daughter.”

 

Dean stood and took the clean clothes.  He paused before heading out to the hallway bathroom and turned to give his brother a watery smile.  “I have a little girl, Sam.”

 

Sam gave him a soft smile in return.  “Yeah, you do, Dean.  I can't wait to meet her.”

 

Dean wiped his wet eyes with the heel of his hand as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.  As fast as possible, he stripped out of his ruined clothes and scoured the mess off his arms at the sink with liquid soap from the container mounted to the wall before putting on the well-worn, hospital-issued scrubs.  When he stepped out of the bathroom, the nurse was waiting for him.  He followed her down the hall tossing his dirty shirt and jeans at Sam as they passed the waiting room.

 

"Mr. Winchester, I'm Ava Wilson and I'm your baby's nurse today."  She offered her hand to him.

 

He shook her hand.  "Hey, Ava.  I'm Dean.  I'm...um...Emma's dad."  It was the first time he’d uttered that phrase, and he liked the way it felt on his tongue.

 

"Sweet name for a sweet girl,” she said with a gentle smile that helped ease Dean's nerves.  They paused just outside the secure double-door leading into the intensive care nursery.  Ava placed a hospital bracelet around his wrist.  Beneath a barcode, the wristband stated _Winchester, Baby Girl, 07/25, Carrier: Novak-Winchester, Castiel J_. 

 

“We all hope Dr. Novak gets better soon.  He’s one of our favorite ER docs, up here.  Always does a really good job with our little patients when they come to us through downstairs.”

 

Dean smiled at the praise.  “Thanks.”

 

"Now, this is the part where I warn you about what you're going to see when we walk through the NICU,” Ava explained, laying her hand gently on his arm.  "We’ll pass incubators with very sick babies.  Some of them are very, very tiny.  You might catch a glimpse of a lot of tubes and lines and hear some alarms going off.  It can be a little distressing for most people.  But, your little girl is doing very well.  She's in a toasty warm incubator.  We've got her on some oxygen, so you'll see a nasal cannula under her nose.  She has a tiny electrode on her chest so we can monitor her heart and breathing and there's an oxygen meter attached to her foot.  We want you to spend at least an hour holding her skin-to-skin.  It'll help regulate her heart rate, breathing, and temperature, and give you two a chance to bond."

 

She paused to let him absorb the information before she asked, "Are you ready to see your daughter?"

 

Nervously, he ran a hand down his mouth and chin as he nodded.  Ava swiped her ID badge over the card reader next to the door.  With a click the locking mechanism released and the double doors swung open revealing a dimly lit room with six incubators, only three of which were currently occupied.  A young couple stood by the closest one; the mom reached in to stroke her baby’s tiny back with her fingertips.  A nurse checked the data from the monitor hooked up to the baby in the second incubator.  Ava led him to the incubator farthest from the door.  A card with a teddy bear printed on it was affixed to the outside of the crib.  It read _I’m a girl!  Last Name: Winchester; Born: 7/25; Birth Weight: 5 lbs, 2 oz; Birth Length: 18 inches_.

 

“Here she is,” the nurse cooed softly as she opened the side of the incubator so Dean could get a better look at his daughter.

 

Emma was lying on her back with her hands fisted up next to her ears.  She had been bathed and diapered, and a soft pink and white striped cap covered her head.  She looked like a normal baby, just a little smaller and skinnier than she might have been if she had been born a few weeks later, but she was pink and alert nonetheless.  She had two small white tabs stuck to her chest with a wire connected to the monitor on the stand outside the incubator.  A pulse oximeter was Velcroed securely to her left foot, its light making the sole of her foot glow red.   A hospital bracelet matching Dean’s was looped around her right foot.  A narrow, clear tube ran under her tiny nose.  Her face pinched up when Ava lifted the incubator door and she gave the nurse a mad little squawk of protest.

 

“Yeah, yeah.  I know you’re tired of seeing me already since I just won’t leave you alone, but I brought somebody who’s ready give you all the snuggles in the world.”  Ava carefully unplugged the electrode wire and unfastened the meter on Emma’s foot before disconnecting the oxygen tube.

 

Dean was amazed at the nurse’s gentle, confident motions while she handled his tiny daughter.  He worried now that he had been too rough with her when she was first born.  Had he rubbed her too hard with the towel when she wasn’t breathing?  Had he held her too tightly on the ambulance ride?  He stared at the little girl lying in the incubator, suddenly petrified at the thought of holding her again when just an hour ago he hadn't wanted to put her down on the stretcher in the ER.

 

“Let’s get you and Daddy settled in the quiet room.  I bet that’ll make you happy.”  Ava was still talking to the little girl, but then she turned to Dean and smiled, pointing towards an open door at the back of the nursery.  “You can head on in there.  Grab a hospital gown off the shelf and take your shirt off, then pick a seat and we’ll be right in.”

 

Dean did as told, already overwhelmed by the unfamiliar environment of the NICU where one wrong move could spell doom for one of the tiny patients.  He felt big, clumsy, and very out of place. 

 

The quiet room was much more relaxing, painted in pale yellows and greens with soft meditative music playing from a small CD player.  The overhead lights were off, but diffused sunlight filtered in through frosted windows.  Dean had forgotten it was still daytime outside; it felt like days had passed already.  Partitions separated four glider rockers along the far wall of the room.   A curtain blocked the view of one chair and Dean could hear the gentle swish of a glider in motion.  He took a green gown from the stack by the door and pulled off his borrowed scrub top before putting the gown on backwards and claiming the chair in the corner.

 

Ava entered with Emma against her shoulder soon after Dean sat down.  The nurse smiled to him as she helped settle the baby comfortably on his bare chest.  Dean held his breath as the warm little body wiggled against him.  His hand almost completely covered her back as he held her securely to him.  Ava took a blanket from the warming cabinet against the wall and spread it over them before fishing out Emma’s oxygen tube and monitor lead and connecting them to a panel in the wall behind the rocking chair.  Once the nurse was satisfied that father and daughter were comfortable, she rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring little squeeze.  “I’ll leave you two alone now, but I’ll check in every 15 minutes or so.  If you need me before then, just press the call button.”

 

“Ok,” he replied with a nod, eyes never leaving the tiny face looking up at him.

 

As she pulled the curtain closed, Ava turned back to Dean.  “Talk to her.  She’ll like the sound of your voice.”

 

After the nurse left, Dean reached down to take Emma’s hand between his index finger and thumb, rubbing the back of her hand gently, as he had in the ER.  She had Castiel's long fingers.  In a soft voice, he started talking to her.  “Hey, baby girl.  You were in a big hurry to get here, huh?”

 

She made a cranky sound against his breastbone.

 

He tucked his chin against the top of his chest so he could murmur against her forehead.  “I wish your papa was here to see you right now.  He’s gonna be jealous that I got you all to myself while he was in surgery.”

 

Dean’s voice broke a little.  Talking about Cas only made him worry and he knew his anxiety could bleed over into the baby.  He cleared his throat roughly before changing the subject.  With a soft smile, he began to tell Emma about all the people waiting to see her – Uncle Sam who was out in the waiting room, Aunt Jess who was at home with cousin Liam waiting for cousin Colt to be born, Grandpa Bobby and Grandma Ellen who were manning the family phone tree giving out updates, and everybody else who was going to be so excited to meet her.  He confessed that she would have to shack up with him and Papa when they got home since her room hadn’t been finished yet, but he promised her that it would be extra awesome.  He whispered a million more promises against her downy soft hair as they rocked together in the quiet little cubicle.

 

Sometime later, Ava returned with a cordless phone in one hand and a small bottle of formula in the other.  She held out the phone first.  “It’s the OR.  They have an update for you.”

 

His heart stopped beating as he took the phone.  “Hello?”

 

“Hello, Dean,” came Balthazar’s accented voice over the line.  Dean could hear the other man smiling.  “Surgery is going very well.  We had to give Castiel a few units of blood, but there were no complications.   As soon as Pam has finished closing up, we’ll take him to recovery.”

 

He sighed with relief.  “When can I see him?”

 

“We’ll call you again once he wakes up in an hour or so.”

 

Dean passed the phone back to Ava with a weary smile.

 

"Good news?" Ava inquired.

 

“Yeah, good news.”  Dean nodded as he leaned down to kiss Emma’s temple.  The last tension drained out of his muscles and he relaxed for the first time in hours.  “Papa’s gonna be ok, sweetheart.”

 

Ava smiled as she handed the bottle to Dean and showed him how to best support Emma’s head and neck.  The baby latched on with only a little coaching before greedily sucking at the nipple. 

 

“Atta girl!” the nurse praised softly.  “Babies this young sometimes have problems sucking, but she seems to know what she’s doing.  She probably won't finish all of it and that’s ok for right now.  She’ll probably get tired after a little while.  We just want to see how much she’ll take.  Ideally, she’ll finish one of these three-ounce bottles every four hours.  If she’s not able to get enough formula on her own, then we’ll put in an NG tube.”

 

Once Ava was satisfied that Emma was doing ok with the bottle, she left the room promising to check on them again later.  Dean’s eyes were glued to the dark blue ones looking back at him.  Emma stared boldly up at him as she sucked down her formula. He wondered if her eyes would change color as she got older or if he would be doomed to put up with two pairs of blue eyes boring into his soul for the rest of his days.  Her arm waved out to the side coming free from the folds of the blanket.  She smacked her hand firmly against Dean’s where he held the bottle.  Little fingers curled around his thumb, squeezing strongly.  Dean grinned, already as head-over-heels in love with her as he was with her father.

 

Quiet minutes passed.  Slowly Emma’s sucking became more intermittent until her mouth finally went slack around the nipple and her eyelids fluttered closed.  The bottle was just over half empty when Dean pulled it away.  The baby’s rounded abdomen expanded on a deep sigh and she grunted softly.  Gingerly, Dean shifted her up to his shoulder rubbing her back.  A grumbly little burp erupted up from her belly.  He chuckled.  “You’ll put Uncle Sam to shame if you keep that up.”

 

Dean leaned back in the chair, pushing his foot against the floor to start the glider’s smooth motion.  Emma rested with her warm little body snuggled up against his chest.  Her forehead was tucked into his neck and her left arm was thrown across his collarbone.  Dean cupped one hand under her diaper-padded bottom and rubbed his other hand over her back.  Everything was ok for the moment.  He had Emma close again and Cas was out of surgery.  His eyes closed and he began to hum to his sleeping daughter.  _Hey Jude_ rumbled deeply through his chest.

 

The next thing Dean knew, someone was gently touching his shoulder.  Ava’s ever-present smile greeted him as he opened his eyes.  “I hate to bother you when you both look so comfy, but Castiel’s awake if you want to go down and see him.”

 

Lifting his hand from Emma’s back, he rubbed sleepily at his eyes.  The baby wiggled and made quiet irritated sounds in her sleep as he moved.  Dean blinked several times and yawned trying to clear away the fog muddling his tired brain.  “Can I take a picture of her before I go?”

 

“Of course.  No restrictions on pictures around here.”

 

Dean felt around under the blanket before remember he was wearing scrubs and his jeans were out in the waiting room with Sam.  “Crap.  I don’t have my phone.”

 

“No problem.”  Ava dashed out of the room and hurried back with an old Polaroid camera.  She snapped a quick picture of Emma huddled against Dean’s chest fast asleep with her mouth open.  Setting the camera down, she held out the drying photo.  “Now, I’ll trade you the picture for the baby.”

 

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade,” he objected with a chuckle.  Standing, he gently pulled the baby away from his chest and handed her to the nurse.

 

“I’m definitely getting the better end of this deal,” Ava quipped as she nestled Emma into her arms again.

 

After pulling his borrowed scrub shirt back on, Dean leaned over to give his daughter a quick kiss to the forehead.  “Don’t give Ava too much trouble, princess.  I’ll be back in a little while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have taken some artistic license with how this NICU works and how well preemie-Emma is doing. It is possible for babies this young to do pretty ok after birth, but it isn't really the norm.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a special reader!

Pam met Dean in the recovery room downstairs.  The doctor smiled warmly at him, her face much more relaxed than the last time Dean saw her.

 

"How's the baby?"

 

Dean held up the Polaroid picture for her to see.  "She's doing good.  They're giving her oxygen and observing her.  She was able to take about half a bottle a little while ago.  Not sure how long she’ll have to stay in the NICU yet."

 

"That's good news.  If she’s able to suck, then hopefully she won’t have to stay too long." 

 

Dean nodded as he followed Pam through the maze of the busy post-anesthesia care unit.  "Any idea what caused Cas to go into labor early?" 

 

She shrugged softly.  "We don't know.  Male-carriers have a higher chance of premature labor, but other than his severe morning sickness and that bout of the gastroenteritis several months ago where he lost some weight, his pregnancy had been progressing normally and everything was normal at his last appointment.  There were no signs that he wouldn’t go to term. Sometimes it just happens and we can’t find a cause."

 

 _Sometimes it just happens_.  That was worse than learning they could have done something to prevent it.  Of course, that was essentially the story of his life – things beyond his control affecting his family.  Dean had thought fate or luck or whoever might finally be giving the Winchesters a break, but apparently not.

 

“What about the bleeding?”

 

“Uterine atony.  After the baby was delivered, his uterus stopped contracting.  Without continued contractions, the vessels aren’t compressed and the bleeding doesn’t stop.  He also had a second-degree tear that we repaired. ” They paused in front of one of the curtained alcoves.  Before pulling the curtain back, Pam explained, “He's awake, but still really groggy and on morphine for the pain.  We'll be transferring him upstairs to a room soon."

 

Castiel was mostly hidden under a pile of warm blankets.  Only his head, left hand, and right foot were visible.  He was still unusually pale, but his skin had lost its almost deathly pallor.  Several bags of clear fluids hung from the pole at the head of the bed.  A patient-controlled analgesia pump was attached to the pole and Castiel clutched its remote control in his hand like a lifeline with his thumb poised over the red button like a Jeopardy contestant waiting to buzz in an answer. 

 

Dean went to stand by the head of the bed where he could stroke his fingers through Castiel's mess of dark hair.  Blue eyes flickered open, darting around confused for several seconds before he locked onto Dean's face.  One corner of his mouth quirked up in a lazy smile and he turned his head into the touch.

 

"Hey, handsome," Dean said as he leaned down to kiss Castiel's forehead.

 

He mumbled something that Dean didn't quite catch. 

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Broke my toe," he repeated on a scratchy whisper.

 

Dean glanced down towards the end of the bed and realized that the two end toes on the foot poking out of the covers were taped together.  Castiel's pinkie toe was swollen and purple.  Someone had fashioned him a weird looking sock with the corner over the taped toes cut out to keep his foot warm without putting pressure on the broken toe.

 

"How the hell'd you do that?"  Dean furrowed a brow.  The last thing he expected for his husband to deal with after premature delivery and major abdominal surgery was a broken bone.

 

"Coffee table."

 

"Oh, right."  Dean chuckled, remembering that Cas had banged his foot into the table earlier that morning. 

 

"Imagine our surprise when that was the first thing he complained about when he woke up,” Pam remarked as she checked the flow rate on one of the IVs.  "I'm going to go see if they have your room ready upstairs."

 

Once Pam pulled the curtain closed behind her, Dean held out the picture of Emma.  Castiel carefully wiggled out from under the covers so he could take the picture with both hands and hold it close.  Dean watched his face soften as he focused on the picture. 

 

"She ok?"

 

"Yeah, she's perfect."  Dean's hand slid down to trace along Castiel's jaw.  "As soon as you can sit up in a chair, I’ll take you to see her."

 

Castiel's lower lip trembled as he stroked a thumb over the picture.  "I'm sorry."

 

"Oh, baby, it's not your fault."  Dean leaned close, resting his forehead against the top of Castiel's head.  He desperately wanted to wrap his husband up in his arms and soothe away his worries and fears.  He squeezed Castiel’s shoulders gently, trying to comfort him.  "You didn't do anything wrong.  There wasn’t anything you could have done differently.  It just happened.  Emma's ok.  Both of you are gonna be ok."

 

Dean pulled back to cup Cas's face with both hands.  He brushed away the tears running down his cheeks with his thumbs.  "Getting upset won't help anything."

 

"Can't help it," he said with a sniffle.  "Tell me about her."

 

Dean smiled and stroked Castiel's neck as he calmed down.  "Our daughter is the most beautiful baby I've ever seen, Cas.  So delicate and tiny.  I got to hold her for over an hour and give her a bottle.  She doesn’t really cry, but she does get cranky, reminds me of you." 

 

Castiel laughed softly, and then winced when the motion tugged at his stapled incision.  He pushed the PCA pump button, eye lids beginning to droop as relief immediately flowed into his veins. 

 

Meg pushed back the curtain.  "Time for a room upgrade, boys."

 

As she began to disconnect various leads and cords from the wall, Dean stepped back out of the way.  Another nurse and a transport tech crowded into the cramped alcove to prepare Castiel to be moved.  Dean gently touched the top of Castiel's foot, being careful to not jostle his toe.  "I'm gonna go check on Emma and find Sam, then I'll be up, ok?"

 

The only response he got was a sleepy head nod.

 

~~~~~

 

The room was quiet and empty when Castiel woke up.  He had slept through the transfer upstairs. Wincing, he looked over to find the button on the rail that would raise the head of the bed.  Somebody had taped Emma’s picture to next to the bed’s control panel.  He reached out with his free hand to gently stroke the photo. 

 

Emma was lying on Dean’s bare chest with her tiny hand resting against his neck.  Dean was looking down at her with a big grin.  The sight of it brought tears to his eyes again.  Things had gone so terribly wrong.  Emma was supposed to still be safely tucked away inside him for another month to grow into a fat little butterball.  He hardly remembered what she felt like in his arms.  He wasn’t supposed to be here with just a picture of his little girl for company. 

 

On top of his emotional misery, his toe throbbed, his bottom was sore, the catheter chaffed, his abdominal muscles protested against every little movement, and his throat burned with every parched attempt at a swallow.  He thumbed the button on the morphine pump and let out a shaky breath as the edge of his discomfort softened.  However, the pain killer did nothing for his tormented thoughts.

 

There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered.  "Hey, Dr. Novak.  I'm Daphne.  I'll be your nurse tonight."

 

She took his vital signs, assessed his surgical site wound, hung a new bag of fluid, and then helped him to sit up on the side of the bed to take a few sips of water.  "Think you can manage a short walk to the nurse's station and back?"

 

Castel nodded and the nurse leaned down to unplug his IV pump from the wall, looping the cord safely up out of the way.  Walking was the last thing he wanted to do, but it would help the healing process and prevent post-surgical complications.  With Daphne's help, he pushed up to his feet.  At some point in time he had gained a pair of slipper-socks with non-slip soles.  Slowly, they shuffled out into the hallway with Castiel dragging his IV pole along beside him.  Luckily, the room was directly across the hall from the nurse's station so he didn't have far to go on his first walk, though Daphne did make him walk to the far end of the counter before turning him around to return back to his room. 

 

They were just a few steps away from the room when Castiel heard a familiar voice call out "Cas!" from the other end of the hall.  He stopped and just smiled as Dean hurried down the hall towards him.  He braced for the inevitable impact, but Dean stopped just short of tackling him and opened his arms to Castiel who gratefully slumped against him.

 

"Didn't think I'd see you up so soon," Dean murmured softly against his ear as he ran his broad hands up and down his back.

 

"They're masochists around here," Castiel replied sliding a hand up under Dean's shirt to find warm skin to touch.  He needed Dean, needed the comfort and grounding that could only come from his husband.  Silently, they clung to each other mindless of the others around them until Daphne gently cleared her throat.

 

The nurse led them back to the room and helped Castiel settle back into the bed.  The process was painful and Castiel was winded by the time he was finally under the covers again.  Dean dragged a chair close to the bed side before tucking Castiel’s hand warmly between his own.

 

Castiel took a moment to let the dose of morphine take the sharpness of his movement-induced pain away.  “How’s Emma?”

 

Dean smiled softly, stroking the top of Castiel’s hand.  “She’s good, really good.  Her breathing and heart rate and everything are staying steady.  She hasn’t given them any surprises so far.  I got to hold her again.  Gave her another bottle, she finished the whole thing, and changed her diaper.  Her night nurse had to throw me out when eight o’clock rolled around.  I really didn’t want to leave her, but I told her we both loved her and couldn’t wait to take her home.  They’re still not sure how long she might have to stay in the NICU, but if she doesn’t give them any surprises, then she might get discharged when you do.” 

 

The look on Dean’s face was so open and sweet while he talked about their daughter.  Castiel soaked in that look, letting it warm up the battered and broken parts of him.  _Emma’s ok_.  He kept repeating the phrase to himself, praying that it would stay true through the night.

 

“Oh!  I got some more pictures.”  Dean dug his cellphone out of his pocket and fiddled with it briefly before handing it over to Castiel and moving over to sit on the edge of the bed.

 

He grabbed for the phone like a man dying of thirst grabbed for a cup of water.  There were dozens of photos of Emma lying in her incubator and curled against Dean’s bare chest under a blanket.  There were even a few of Dean and Emma sitting together in a rocking chair that must have been taken by one of the nurses.  Castiel chuckled at the pictures of Dean changing a squalling baby’s diaper.

 

“She was fine until I went to put the dry diaper on her.  I think our child prefers to be naked.  Wonder who she gets that from?”

 

Smiling, Castiel gave an innocent little shrug of his shoulder as he continued flipping through the photos.  At the end of the line of pictures was a video.  He tapped the play icon with his thumb.  After a shaky couple of seconds, the camera focused in on Emma swaddled tightly in a blue and white receiving blanket, tucked snuggly into the bend of Dean’s elbow.  The fingers of one tiny hand were curled around the edge of the blanket up under her chin.  The baby blinked determinedly and furrowed her brow as Dean’s voice came over the video. 

 

_Hey, Papa.  Emma just wanted to tell you goodnight, sleep tight, sweet dreams, and don’t let the bed bugs bite._

 

Emma opened her mouth in a big yawn before closing her eyes.  Her little fingers flexed for a few seconds before they went still.

 

The camera pulled back far enough so Dean was in the shot.   He looked into the lens and smiled.

 

_We love you._

 

Eyes glistening with a myriad of emotions, Castiel reached out to Dean, grabbing hold of his shirt and pulling him over for a kiss.  The movement hurt, but he was so desperate to have his husband close that he chose to ignore the pain.  The press of their lips expressed all the things that they didn’t have to say with words – _I was scared, I’m still scared, I love you, we’ll be ok_.  With careful maneuvering, Dean stretched out next to Castiel on the hospital bed and drew him close.  Castiel buried his face in Dean’s neck, breathing in the familiar, calming scent of the man he loved.  “Are you going home?”

 

“Nope.  Staying right here.”  Dean bent his head to place a tender kiss into Castiel’s messy hair.

 

“Good,” Castiel whispered.

 

They laid together in silence, clinging to each other for a while before sleep finally claimed both of them.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of my lovely readers for your wonderful comments! I am addicted!

Castiel stared at the double doors leading into the NICU.  The fear from yesterday came crashing back, stealing his breath away.  Sure, he’d seen the pictures of Emma on Dean’s phone.  She had been bright eyed and alert, despite how skinny she was.  But, he couldn’t push away the first image he had of her – blue and limp in Dean’s bloody hands.  In his mind, that was the baby waiting beyond the doors for him, a tiny, motionless baby covered in wires and tubes laying an incubator surrounded by beeping monitors and harried nurses.  He’d seen preemies first-hand before, held their fragile bodies in his hands, and every single one of them haunted him now.

 

“You ok?”

 

He blinked, realizing that Dean had knelt down in front of the wheelchair, his hands gently rubbing Castiel’s blanket covered knees.  Nodding, he inhaled deeply.  “I’m just…”

 

When he didn’t continue, Dean leaned forward to kiss his temple.  “Yeah, I know.”

 

The doors swung open and Ava walked out with a gentle smile.  “Morning, guys.  C’mon in and let me fill you in how Emma’s doing.”

 

She led them into the room.  “Her bilirubin levels had increased overnight when we did the lab draw earlier this morning so we’ve had her under the bili-light for a few hours.  It’s not at all uncommon for babies of her age to get a little jaundiced.  I’ve been giving her a bottle every half hour to keep her extra hydrated so the excess bilirubin can be flushed out of her system faster.  She’s not drinking a whole lot from the extra bottles, just a few sucks and then she’s done.  It’s helping a bit, but I’m hoping one of you can convince her to take some more so I don’t have to give her an IV.”

 

Dean pushed Castiel between the two rows of incubators, stopping by the crib at the back of the room.  Emma’s bassinet was bathed in blue light.  She was completely uncovered except for her diaper and a white covering over her eyes.  She cried with her slender arms and legs flailing in the air.

                                                                                                                       

Ava opened the side of the incubator.  “She’s kinda fussy right now, but it’s time for another regular feeding so she might actually be hungry.  Were you planning to nurse her or give her formula?”

 

“Nurse her,” Castiel replied, not looking away from Emma.  She looked so different from the baby who’d been born in their downstairs half-bath that he didn’t immediately recognize that the baby he was looking at was his little girl.  It scared him that he didn’t automatically know her.  Wasn’t he supposed to have a soul-deep bond with the child who grew inside his own body?  Wasn’t he supposed to instantly be able to tell her apart from all of the other babies in the world without help from an ID bracelet?

 

Dean reached into the incubator to stroke Emma’s bare tummy with his fingertips, murmuring quietly to her while Ava turned her attention back to Castiel. 

 

“Would you like to move to the rocking chair?”  She motioned to the chair sitting by the head of the incubator.

 

He shook his head, watching Dean interact with their daughter.  She had calmed down as soon as he started talking to her.  A pang of jealousy twisted in Castiel’s chest.  He’d held his baby for barely half an hour right after she was born, and then had been cruelly separated from her for nearly 24 hours.   Dean had already spent hours of time with her, bonded with her, changed her diaper, fed her, held her, told her he loved her, had his picture taken with her.  She already knew who he was, already responded to the sound of his voice.  Castiel felt like a stranger.

 

Ava walked over to a cabinet, pulling out three pillows that she then arranged in Castiel’s lap, padding his abdomen and giving him extra support for his arms.  “The best way for you to hold her so she’s not putting any weight on your incision is like a football, under your arm.”

 

Once she was satisfied with the placement of the pillows, the nurse turned back to the incubator, turning off the bili-light and reaching in to unfasten the mask covering Emma’s eyes.  She lifted the wiggly, cranky baby up from the bed and carefully handed her down to Castiel.

 

He held his breath as Ava situated the baby under his right arm with her head at his chest and her feet by his elbow.

 

“How’s that?” the nurse inquired.

 

“It’s ok,” he replied quietly, tentatively cupping his left hand around the top of Emma’s dark head.  At the sound of his voice, she tilted her head back and stared at him with big dark blue eyes.  Her crabby whimpers stopped altogether.  His breath caught in his throat. 

 

“Looks like somebody missed her papa,” Ava said with a knowing smile. 

 

This was his Emma Mary, his sweet baby that he’d been so looking forward to meeting.  Now that he had her in his arms again, he knew without a doubt that she belonged to him.  Emma blinked at him, brow furrowing inquisitively as if she was making the connection that the blurry person she was looking at was the one she’d been inside of for the past few months.  When she seemed satisfied that she knew who he was, she turned her face into his chest, rooting against his hospital gown.

 

“Would you like me to help get her settled?” the nurse asked. 

 

He nodded his head, awestruck by the tiny person curled up under his arm.  She was warm and soft where her naked back and side were pressed against his arm.  She had adorable wrinkles everywhere, like she hadn’t quite grown into her skin yet.  She never seemed to stop moving; her toes and fingers, legs and arms constantly reaching out and flexing, impatient for the meal she knew was coming.  Her pink mouth gaped open before closing around a mouthful of dry cotton, and she glowered in irritation at the figured up material in front of her face.

 

Ava’s hands were gentle as she untied the back of his gown and helped him shrug one arm free.  She scooted Emma closer to the slight swell of Castiel’s bare chest before teasing the baby’s pouty bottom lip with a fingertip to coax her into latching onto his nipple.  Emma rolled her wet lips against his skin before she finally centered his nipple and latched on with a firm suck.  Her eyes widened at the first pull of milk, like it was the best thing in the world, before closing contently as she settled into a steady suckling rhythm. 

 

Castiel inhaled deeply, relaxing into the feeling of Emma nursing at his chest.  His arms tightened around her, supporting her delicate body.  He stroked between her shoulder blades with his thumb.  One eye opened, searching him out to make sure he was still there and making contact for several long seconds, before it closed again.

 

Their little bubble of space was completely quiet, except for Emma’s occasional grunts, for a solid minute until Dean’s cell phone buzzed his pocket.  Castiel was so wrapped up in Emma that he’d forgotten his husband and the nurse were on either side of the wheelchair, watching him and the baby together.

 

Dean stood and looked down at the display on his phone.  “It’s Sammy.  I’ll go out in the hall to give him an update.  You gonna be, ok?”

 

Castiel nodded.  “Ask him how Jess’s doing.”

 

“Sure thing,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of Castiel’s head.  His fingertips brushed over Emma’s cheek, but she was too focused on filling her belly to pay him any attention.

 

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Ava said as she brought over a blanket from the warming cabinet and wrapped Castiel and the baby up in it.

 

The rhythmic beep of monitors and quiet murmur of nurses talking amongst themselves faded away as Castiel watched Emma nurse.  He stroked his hand over her hair, enthralled with how the wayward dark locks felt softer than feathers.  Every few seconds she would pause in her suckling to open her eyes and look up at him before sighing and going back to nursing.  After a few more minutes, Ava came back to help him switch Emma over to his other nipple.

 

“She probably won’t nurse as long on this side.  Next time we’ll start her on this side.  Do you have a pump?” the nurse asked as she wrapped them back up in the blanket.

 

Castiel gave a soft little huff and shook his head.  “Our baby shower isn’t for another week and it was on the list.”

 

Ava smiled.  “That’s ok.  We’ll send one over to your room so you can pump when she’s not nursing and then we can give her your milk in a bottle for her overnight feedings.  If you can’t pump a lot just yet, then we’ll supplement whatever you express with some formula.  You are welcome to come in and nurse her as often as you can.”

 

The nurse watched them closely for a little while, before heading back to the nurses’ station in the corner of the room.  Not long after Ava left, Emma’s sucking slowed down until her mouth loosened its hold around Castiel’s nipple.  She sighed deeply, rather dramatically for such a tiny baby, and looked up at him one last time before drifting off to sleep.  Very carefully, Castiel shifted her up to lay vertically against his chest under the hospital gown with her cheek resting against his shoulder.  He turned his head to kiss her forehead softly – the first of many to come. 

 

Dean came back and dragged the rocking chair closer to Castiel’s wheelchair so they could sit knee to knee.  He smiled at the sight of Castiel snuggled up in a blanket with their daughter.  “I’m not gonna get to hold her any time soon, am I?”

 

“Nope,” he replied shaking his head as he patted the baby’s back gently.  “How’s Jess?”

 

“In labor.  They’re still at home, but Sam thinks they’ll be heading over here in an hour or so.  Gabe and Kali are at our house recovering from their trip.  Apparently there were no direct flights out from LA last night so they had a three-hour layover in Chicago.  Sam said he let them in and they’ll stop by whenever you're ready for company.”

 

“What time is it now?”

 

“Almost noon.”

 

Castiel sighed softly.  “I’ve got to go back to the room so Tamara can do her assessment, and it’s time for more pain meds and lunch.”

 

Ava walked over.  “She’ll probably sleep for a couple of hours, if you want to go do the same.”

 

“That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed.  As much as he didn’t want to leave her again, he knew better than to pass up a chance for a nap.  Castiel pressed a kiss to Emma’s pink cheek before handing her over to Dean, who kissed her other cheek and carefully laid her back in her incubator.

 

“We’ll take good care of her,” Ava said as she escorted them to the door.

 

They said their thanks, and Dean wheeled Castiel back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the last chapter, but it is the last of the daily updates. I have not written chapter 15 yet. If I don't get it written this weekend, then it might take me a couple of weeks to get it done. Next week is the week before fall classes begin and we're all swamped with meetings and registration all day, every day. If you have already taken a look at my other stuff, feel free to peruse my collection of stories until the next update!


	15. Chapter 15

Colton John Winchester arrived in the world at 3:36pm the day after his supposed-to-be-younger cousin was born.  His birth couldn’t have been any more textbook if it had been scripted and rehearsed beforehand.  He tipped the scales at a hefty 8 pounds 14 ounces and was 22 inches long.  He was immediately showered with love by his parents, and by his grandparents and big brother a few hours later.  Less than 24 hours after birth, Sam and Jess took their new baby home.

 

It was hard not to be jealous when they stopped by Castiel’s room on their way out.  Colt, wearing a navy blue onesie with a green dinosaur on the front, was fastened into his car seat fast asleep.  Sam and Jess didn’t visit for very long, both ready to get back to the comfort of their own house and not wanting to keep Castiel and Dean from the NICU for too long.

 

They stayed with Emma as much as possible, tag teaming during peak visiting hours when just one of them could be present at a time and only leaving their little girl’s side when the nurses forced them out in the evenings.  Emma spent a few more hours under the blue bili-light until her bilirubin levels went down, but overall she was doing very well.  All of her vital signs stayed stable; her oxygen saturation was normal on room air and her temperature was steady without the aid of the incubator’s warmer.  She ate her fill whenever she nursed or took a bottle in the middle of the night and had even gained a couple of ounces.  The nurses and neonatologist were very happy with her progress.

 

On the fourth morning, Emma was discharged from the NICU and her care was transferred over to the newborn nursery.  The nurses there were going to watch her a little closer than they normally would for a baby who had been born at term, but they weren’t expecting her to have any problems. 

 

“Didn’t you say you had some errands to run?” Castiel asked from the bed as he flipped through the TV channels for the fifth or sixth time in the last hour.  He was 96 hours post-surgery and recovering as expected.  With any luck, both he and the baby would be discharged tomorrow morning and they could all go home.

 

“You just want me to give Emma back to you.”  Dean sat in the recliner next to the bed with the baby fast asleep on his bare chest, the two of them snuggled together under a blanket. 

 

“Yes, but that’s beside the point.  Isn’t Hendrickson expecting you to sign off on the family medical leave papers or something?”

 

“I can go later.”  Dean’s hand rhythmically moved under the blanket, stroking up and down his infant daughter’s bare back.  He hadn’t left the hospital since they came in through the emergency room four days ago.  Thanks to Ellen stopping by their house to grab their forgotten bags, he had been able to shower and change clothes without going back home, but Castiel knew Dean would go stir crazy the longer he was confined to the room. 

 

Plus, there was the fact that Castiel’s time with Emma was paltry compared to the amount of the time Dean had spent with her both in the NICU and once she’d finally been brought to the room.  Dean could almost be accused of hogging the baby all to himself.  So far the only time Castiel had actually gotten to hold her today was for her first feeding after Ava wheeled her into the room.

 

Time for a new tactic.  Castiel fidgeted with the sheet and blanket covering his lower body, wincing a little more than necessary at the tug and pull against his incision hoping to garner some sympathy from his husband.  “I’m hungry.”

 

That got Dean’s attention and awoke his manly need to provide for his mate.  He sat up carefully to keep from jostling Emma awake.  “Want me to go down to the cafeteria?”

 

“I’d really like a bacon cheeseburger from the Roadhouse and a milkshake from Steak n’ Shake.”  Castiel turned his greatest weapon of persuasion on Dean:  wide blue, puppy dog eyes.  Sure, the cafeteria had edible burgers and passable milkshakes, but Dean needed a harder quest to keep himself occupied and driving over half of Lawrence was the best way to do it.

 

For the first time since Castiel got pregnant, Dean actually looked torn between wanting to comply with or flat out deny his request for food.  It wasn’t an unreasonable request by any means.  He needed to eat and he was recovering so he should be awarded some manner of extra comfort, at least Castiel thought so. 

 

After several seconds of deliberation, Dean tossed back the blanket and stood while Castiel arranged the half dozen pillows cocooned around him in the bed.  He carefully placed one over his abdomen to give extra protection to his bandaged incision.  Once he was settled, Dean carefully lowered Emma down in to her father's waiting arms.  She squished up her face and flailed a bit as she was moved, but didn't make any noise as Castiel snuggled her close to his chest.  Dean covered them warmly with the discarded blanket before straightening up again to button his shirt.

 

"The Roadhouse and Steak n' Shake, huh?"  Dean stood by the bedside.  Without the baby in his arms, he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands so he stuffed them in the pockets of his jeans.  "The Steak n' Shake is on the other side of town."

 

"I like their birthday cake milkshake," Castiel replied giving his full attention to the little girl eyeing him warily.  He could tell that she had worked out that he wasn't Dean and it took her a few seconds to remember that he was her source of food before she rubbed her face into his chest.  She was probably starting to get hungry.

 

"I am so whipped," Dean muttered with a wry smile as he leaned down to kiss Castiel and gently stroke his hand over the back of Emma's head.

 

"Thank you, daddy," Castiel said, smirking.

 

Dean raised a brow as he stood up.  "That's kinda hot, you know."

 

Castiel just grinned up at him.  Dean slowly walked towards the door, turning to take one last look at his husband and their daughter before reluctantly leaving them.  Once Dean was gone, Castiel tugged down the neck of his hospital gown and settled Emma at his nipple.

 

"I finally have you all to myself," he told the baby, tracing her rounded cheek with the tip of his index finger as she suckled.  "Sad, though, that I had to get rid of your daddy just so he'd let me have you for a little while.  You definitely have him wrapped around your little finger." 

 

She was likely to have a different person wrapped around each of her fingers by the time she was introduced to the rest of the family.  They had not had any visitors yet, except for Balthazar who dropped by shortly after breakfast to check on Castiel.  Sam had conveyed word to everybody that Castiel and Dean wanted to wait until they got back home to see anybody.  Ellen was the main point of contact for sending out updates, making it so much easier for them to keep everybody in the loop without being bombarded with phone calls and texts.  Castiel’s parents had called a couple of days ago to check in on him and their new granddaughter.  His mom was very sorry they weren’t able to leave the base on short notice to come stateside, but promised they were planning to come home for Christmas this year.

 

There was a knock at the door.  He didn’t really pay it any attention to begin with, figuring it was one of the nurses coming in to check on them, but at the second knock he called out for the person to come in.

 

“Hey little brother,” came Gabriel’s voice from behind a dozen pink helium balloons tied to a huge bouquet of pink and yellow roses.  Kali walked in behind him, carrying a familiar looking black diaper bag with the initials EMW embroidered on the side in hot pink and a FedEx box.  “We brought presents!”

 

“I can see that,” Castiel stated with a smile as Kali came to the bedside to kiss his cheek and coo over the baby while Gabriel set the bouquet on the counter by the window.

 

“Oh, Cas, she’s beautiful,” Gabriel’s wife said softly as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

 

“We won’t stay long,” Gabriel reassured when Emma started fussing because Castiel’s attention was taken away from her.  “Just wanted to drop off some things that you’ll need if you get discharged tomorrow.   We packed the diaper bag for you, and we saw Dean out in the parking lot, so we gave him the car seat.  And this,” he motioned to the box Kali held in her lap, “is from Mom and Dad.”

 

Kali wisely offered to open the box instead of offering to hold the baby.  Castiel wasn’t quite ready to start passing his tiny daughter around for everybody in the family to hold just yet, especially since he had only just gotten to hold her for the second time today himself.  From inside the shipping box, Kali pulled a smaller box.  Carefully folded in tissue paper inside the smaller box was a tiny antique white linen dress with a matching cap.

 

“Is that…?”

 

“Yep!  Mom sent the outfit that Grandma brought Dad home from the hospital in and that all of us wore home, too.”  Gabriel held it up.  “Might be a little big for her, but we can make it work.”

 

“I hope Rachel doesn’t find out it was sent to me because Mom told her she lost the dress when she asked if Inias could wear it home.”

 

“Yeah, well, Rachel and Mom didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye back then.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes.  Michael’s wife was not the most loved in-law married into the Novak family.  It had taken years for their mom to tolerate her first daughter-in-law, whereas she had taken an immediate liking to the significant others of her other children as soon as she’d met them. 

 

“Besides, Emma is the first grandchild from a Novak womb, so of course she gets the privilege of wearing the family heirloom home.  You know you’d have to fight Mom off with a stick if she lived anywhere close.  She’d probably insist on moving in with you and Dean.”  Gabriel carefully sat down on the side of the bed opposite his wife.  “So, in her place, Kali and me are hanging around for the next week or so until the three of you get settled in at home.  We’ll cook and clean and sing and dance.  Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”

 

Castiel smiled at his brother and sister-in-law.  That they dropped everything and rushed to Kansas meant the world to him.  “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”

 

“It’ll be good practice for us,” Kali said with a gentle smile as she placed a hand on the barely there swell of her stomach. 

 

Emma let out a pitiful wail.

 

“Well, my beautiful goddess, I believe that’s our cue to skedaddle,” Gabriel said as he jumped up and came around the foot of the bed to help Kali to her feet.  He turned back to his brother.  “Call before you leave tomorrow so we’ll know when to expect you.”

 

“I will,” Castiel said as Kali bent down to give him a hug, followed by Gabriel.  His brother paused a moment to look down at his niece with a fond smile.

 

“You and Dean did a good job on this one, even if she is a tiny little ladybug.  I just hope that one,” he gestured to his wife’s midsection, “is blessed with her genes over mine.”

 

“Thanks, Gabe,” he said with a chuckle.

 

“We’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully,” Gabriel said, waving as he followed Kali out of the room.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much taking the time to read my story! I love you all!

“Dean, the speed limit through here is 45.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“You’re going 38.”  Traffic zoomed past the left side of the Impala.

 

“So?”

 

Castiel chuckled from his spot in the backseat, buckled in next to Emma who looked precious in her white dress and hat.  The baby had been wide awake and curious for the whole wheelchair ride down the elevator and out to the curb outside the hospital lobby, but as soon as Dean cranked the Impala’s big engine, she conked out to the grumbly lullaby of a big block V-8.  The car shuttered suddenly as the driver’s side tires thunked down into the unavoidable pothole at the intersection of Jefferson and Monroe.  

 

“Shit,” Dean cursed, before quickly amending himself, “I mean, shoot.  She ok?”

 

Castiel caught Dean’s worried glance up into the rearview mirror and smiled.  “She’s fine, Dean.”

 

“Ok, ok.”  Dean nodded, turning his attention back to the late morning traffic.  His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly at ten and two as his eyes roved between the windshield, the rearview, and the side mirrors.  Castiel would never accuse Dean of being a bad driver, but his husband’s hypervigilance on their daughter’s first car ride was beginning to make him nervous.  He’d much rather have the trip over and done with than draw it out for longer than necessary.  There was a comfy bed and a TV with too many channels calling his name, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t have Emma snuggled up close to his chest until she was out of her car seat.

 

Finally, the Impala made the left-hand turn onto their street.  Castiel had never been so happy to see his house.  There was a huge pink bow and a bunch of balloons, similar to the ones riding shotgun with the bouquet of roses, tied to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.  A matching blue bow and balloons were tied to the mailbox across the street. 

 

The garage door lifted and Dean pulled the Chevy into its spot next to Castiel’s BMW.  Gabriel poked his head out the door leading into the house as soon as they pulled in.

 

“Hey, guys!  You need some help?” he asked as he bounded down the steps, eager as a puppy.  He and Kali grabbed duffle bags, the diaper bag, and flowers before disappearing back into the house while Dean carefully helped Castiel out of the backseat.  His pain level was more manageable, but certain movements, like twisting to get out of the car, still caused quite a bit of discomfort.  He would be moving very cautiously for days to come.

 

With one arm looped behind Castiel and the other hand wrapped around the handle of Emma’s carrier, Dean brought his little family into their house.  Castiel sighed in contentment the moment they crossed the threshold into the mudroom.  The house smelled first and foremost like home, warm and familiar, and also like Gabriel’s famous three-bean chili.  His stomach growled fiercely at the promise of something that didn’t come from the hospital cafeteria.

 

Dean guided Castiel straight up stairs, bypassing the living room all together in favor of the bedroom.  The door across the hall from their room was wrapped up like a present with bumblebee paper and a big yellow bow.  Castiel furrowed a brow as he reached out to open the door to the nursery. 

 

The beige-walled room that had been mostly empty only a few days ago was completely furnished and decorated.  The top half of the walls above white wainscoting was painted slate gray.  Cheery yellow curtains dressed the large window overlooking the backyard.  A big fuzzy bumblebee that matched the little fuzzy bumblebees on the mobile hung on the wall over the black crib with its yellow and gray striped sheet and bumper set.  A white teddy bear wearing a bee costume sat in one corner of the crib.  There was a glider rocker and ottoman in the corner of the room; a yellow and black afghan was thrown over the back of it and spilled onto the seat cushion.  The big armoire, changing table, and toy chest were the other pieces of furniture in the room.  The closet door was open to show off its neatly organized shelves and racks of tiny clothes, toys, and books and tall stack of diaper boxes. 

 

"Oh," he breathed. 

 

Dean smiled as he tightened his arm around Castiel’s waist.  “Hope you don’t mind that I said it’d be ok for the gang to finish the nursery for us.”

 

“No,” he shook his head, hardly daring to blink.  The room was exactly how he had envisioned it –charming and sweet. “It’s perfect.”

 

“Charlie told me to tell you that this in no way means we get out of having a shower.  She’s already sent out _change the date_ cards.”

 

Emma wiggled in her carrier, making quiet little sounds as she woke up.

 

“Hey, pumpkin.  What do you think of your room?” Dean asked, turning her so she was facing the nursery.

 

She lifted a tiny fist up to her mouth, sucking on it.

 

Castiel laughed softly as he wiped at his eyes.  “Looks like she’s withholding her opinion until after lunch.”

 

The baby whined against her hand.

 

“Alright, alright.  We’ll investigate your totally cool room later.” Dean ushered Castiel across the hall to their room where a portable bassinet stood at the foot of their bed.  Castiel wandered into the bathroom while Dean unstrapped Emma from her carrier.  He could hear Dean talking to their daughter.

 

“I’m so glad to have you and Papa home, baby girl,” Dean murmured against her forehead as he cuddled her close for a few minutes before laying her down on the bed to change her out of her going home outfit, into a pink onesie with a black Bat symbol printed on the front.  “Now that you’re here, you’ve gotta keep being awesome, ok?  You gotta pig out on Papa-juice so you turn into a chunky little monkey and you gotta stay strong and healthy, capiche?”

 

Emma grunted, still gumming her fingers.

 

Castiel stood in the doorway watching as Dean leaned over the baby, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head before gathering her up into the bend of his elbow.  He decided two years ago that his husband looked good with a baby in his arms the first time he saw him hold Liam; seeing Dean with Emma only further cemented that opinion. 

 

Emma’s face squished up as she started crying.  Castiel unbuttoned his shirt as he crossed over to the bed.  Dean offered him his free hand to help him up on the bed.  After Castiel arranged the pillows, Dean handed the hungry baby to him and watched while the two of them settled into a comfortable nursing position.

 

"Do you have enough pillows?  Want a blanket?”

 

He normally would have said no, that he was fine, but Dean wanted to be helpful, and a helpful Dean was a happy Dean.  So, he gladly let his husband baby him, fetching a pillow to go under his knees and a light fleece throw to spread out over his legs, running downstairs for a glass of milk and a protein bar, grabbing a clean diaper and a box of wipes.  When there wasn’t anything left for Dean to do, he climbed up on the bed and snuggled into Castiel’s side to watch Emma nurse.  Their daughter’s gaze flickered between the two of them as her small hand opened and closed against Castiel’s bare chest while she suckled.

 

Dean leaned in, kissing Castiel’s cheek.  “I love you.”

 

Castiel smiled.  “I love you, too.”

 

Half an hour later, Kali came up to check on the new parents and found them spooned up together on top of the covers.  Castiel was curled around Emma like a comma with his hand resting on her tummy.  All three of them were fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winding down to the end of this lovely little tale. I'll probably write an epilogue over the next couple of weeks and call it done. That's not to say that I won't return to this 'verse in the future, but I want to work on my other WIPs and post new stuff. :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending this story on a very short epilogue of pure fluff. Hope you like it!

Three years later...

 

“Daddee!”  Emma squealed with her little hands pressed up against the glass of the front door.  She was a sight to behold in her neon yellow tutu, black cowboy boots, AC/DC t-shirt, and purple domino mask (her favorite turtle was Donatello) with her almost white-blonde hair pulled up in two curly pigtails. 

 

The Impala pulled into the driveway and Dean got out of the driver’s side with a large box in his hands.

 

“Daddee!  Daddee!  Daddeeee!”  Emma chanted, patting her palms against the glass impatiently.

 

Dean jogged up the front steps and pulled open the door, ignoring the little handprints smudging the storm door that he’d just wiped down yesterday.   He grinned down at his daughter, “Hey, Bumblebee.  Did you miss me?”

 

She raised her arms over her head making grabby motions at the box in his hands.  “Wanna see!”

 

“Nope, it’s a surprise for later.”  He held the box far above her head as he headed towards the kitchen.  It wasn’t too hard to keep the large sheet cake decorated with four green turtles and a yellow van that read _Happy 3 rd Birthday, Emma and Colt!_ on the side out of view from the hip-high toddler.

 

“Uhhh!”  Trailing along behind Dean, she whined and stomped her booted feet, making way more noise than a 25-pound, almost-three-year-old should be able to.

 

“Little girls who throw tantrums don’t get to eat cake and ice cream at their own birthday parties,” he remarked as he set the box down on the counter before walking over to kiss Castiel.

 

“I think it’s past somebody’s naptime,” Castiel said as he put a pan of baked beans in the oven.

 

Emma flung herself down on the floor, whining even harder.  “Nooo!!”

 

“Definitely nap time,” Dean said, throwing his daughter a raised eye brow.

 

Castiel walked over and scooped her up.  “C’mon, Em.  I’ll read you a story and when you wake up we’ll go to Aunt Jess’s house for the party, ok?”

 

She sniffled pitifully, laying her head against his shoulder, and nodded.  “Can I wear my Ariel swim suit?”

 

“Only if you lay down for a little while.”  Castiel ran his hand over her back, already feeling the pre-birthday party energy draining from her body.

 

“Mmkay,” she acquiesced.

 

After two stories and tucking Emma in bed with her well-loved bee bear, Castiel came back downstairs to find Jo and Ash sitting in the den talking with Dean.

 

“We’re early,” Jo confessed, standing up to give Castiel a hug. 

 

"No problem with us," he said, kissing her cheek lightly.  “Though you’ll probably get roped into helping decorate.”

 

“Yeah, we’re planning to go help out anyway, but we wanted to get an opinion from you and Dean on Emma’s birthday present first,” Ash said holding out a pink gift bag for Castiel to take. 

 

“I’m sure whatever you got her is fine.”  Castiel furrowed a brow as Dean came to stand by him, unable to guess at what Jo and Ash had gotten their daughter that needed parental approval before they gave it to her.  He pulled the tissue-wrapped present out from the bag; it was a white t-shirt that had _BIG SISTER_ printed in bright pink letters.

 

A year and a half ago, Jo had come to Dean and Castiel offering to let them _rent-a-womb_ if they wanted to try for another baby.  She and Ash weren’t planning to have any kids, but she didn’t want to let a perfectly good uterus go to waste when two of her favorite family members couldn’t make any more babies on their own.  For the last six months, Castiel had endured three rounds of fertility treatments and Jo had undergone three implantation attempts.  After the second negative pregnancy test, they were all starting to give up hope.

 

Jo quickly found herself smothered between the two Winchesters.  “Easy, easy!  Don’t crush your precious spawn!” she cried with a laugh.

 

They pulled back, but not far.  Castiel grabbed hold of Ash’s elbow, pulling him into the group hug.  He was just as much a part of their much more intimately linked little family now as Jo was, and they both didn’t want him to feel left out just because his wife was carrying somebody else’s baby.  Of course, Ash was the probably the most laid back person on the planet, so he was just happy to be along for the ride.

 

Dean cupped his hands around Jo’s face and smiled down at her with tears in his eyes.  “You are an amazing woman, Joanna Beth.  Thank you so much for doing this for us.”

 

She sniffled softly, closing her eyes as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.  “You might want to hold off on thanking me.”

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

Ash pulled a sonogram picture out of his wallet and handed it over to Castiel, who studied it for a few moments.

 

He looked up at Dean, tears sparkling in his blue eyes, as he turned the picture around and said, “We’re gonna need a bigger car.”

 

Dean’s eyes got as big as saucers when he saw the arrows pointing out _Baby A_ and _Baby B_ on the grainy photograph.

 

“Holy shit…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love each and every one of you who gave kudos and commented - especially those of you who commented on every single chapter! I wrote this story because it was something I wanted to read for myself and I'm so glad others thought it was worthy of being read too.
> 
> I have a couple of ideas that didn't quite make it into this part of the story, so I may do some very short timestamps in the coming weeks/months. One would be sometime in the middle of Cas's pregnancy and the other would be a week or so after Emma gets home from the hospital. If I write them, they'll be posted separately from the main story, but still attached to the series. Subscribe to me or to the _Unfold Your Love_ series for updates!
> 
> If you're an mpreg fan, like me, I do plan to update my WIP mpreg fics _Sanctifying Grace_ (alternate canon fic featuring an as yet unborn nephilim), _A Song of Feather and Claw_ (GOT AU fic), and _Pack of Our Own_ (A/B/O fic featuring alpha!Benny, omega!Dean, and omega!Cas), so keep your eyes peeled for progress on those stories!
> 
> ***Oh I forgot to add a quick explanation about Emma's hair. She was born with dark hair, but then by the time she was a year old it had turned blonde. I have a cousin who's hair was the same way -- almost inky black at birth that lightened to white blonde by her 1st birthday. Her hair darkened again over the years and is a dark honey blonde/brunette now. Emma takes after daddy!Dean in the hair department and she's got pretty blue eyes like papa!Cas.


End file.
